Red-eyed and desperately sad, a girl in Colombia whispered to K-San
'My sister is dead, my sister whose life was mine.
What can I do?'
K-San took her trembling hands and warmed them between his own
'Water and ice,' he said, his eyes shining, 'Ice and water'
K-San sat up with her all night
He pointed out that
'At the festival tomorrow the Meddelín night shall be a huge canvas
For there will be fireworks
And they will light up your eyes
And you will feel more alive than ever before
Just as your sister would wish for you,'
And as she finally, gently settled down to sleep in the pre-dawn quiet, he wrote her a poem:
A clock, a candle
The moon is finished grieving
The hour brightens
'My sister is dead, my sister whose life was mine.
What can I do?'
K-San took her trembling hands and warmed them between his own
'Water and ice,' he said, his eyes shining, 'Ice and water'
K-San sat up with her all night
He pointed out that
'At the festival tomorrow the Meddelín night shall be a huge canvas
For there will be fireworks
And they will light up your eyes
And you will feel more alive than ever before
Just as your sister would wish for you,'
And as she finally, gently settled down to sleep in the pre-dawn quiet, he wrote her a poem:
A clock, a candle
The moon is finished grieving
The hour brightens