Today Sunday I decided to go early. After lunch. Sara had to spend the

night at her Mom’s house. The old woman hasn’t been feeling good

lately. Fed Lobo and drove to the cemetery. Around 6:00 PM. There was

a lot of traffic. Carried my bottle of Tequila in my backpack along with

a tuna can and water. Lobo was with me. And I was expecting the feral

cat later. Even tough I’ve been at the cemetery multiple times…know

the atmosphere…each and every name of those people neighbors

to my Mama’s stone…the now familiar old tree whose arms look as

old as time…without hardly any tree tissue…skinny, skinny, skinny.

Emaciated. Still keeping company to those under it. There was a

beautiful breeze. Night arrived while I smoked a cigarette. Drank my

Tequila and soaked on those limes with salt. Laid on my Mom’s stone

and looked at the stars before I closed my eyes and went from slow

slumber to deep sleep while the moon shone bright on me and the

cricket sang to me.

Ernesto Onofre