BellaOnline Literary Review
Tampa Bay Sunset by Lisa Shea

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Honeymoon in Acapulco

LindaAnn Lo Schiavo

In Mexico, we honeymooned, my first
Time viewing the Pacific. Sunset dressed
A disenchanted evening as we dared
To peer across where barrenness canīt be
As bearable as when, relieved by rocks,
Distinctive curving greens, one sure thing there
Reminds us our world hasnīt been erased.

The moon stayed in. Thereīs nothing light tonight.

Stiff bristled fear dug tracks in my scalp till
We plug extension cords in lamps, parade
Out on an Acapulco balcony
Like bridesmaids, hoping for some bats, their red
Machinery of appetite alive
This hour, ready to devour my edge
Of desolation. Batwings flap, a sound
Like crisp applause, but, spotting lights below,
Some hide a tiny face in their arms like
Shy children. Itīs so black, infernal all
Around, when this nocturnal choir rides.

Through wind, they speak to me, the antidote
To barrenness, forever pushing on
Despite the vast uncaring, steadying,
As if wings were things that released my day.

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