All Hallow's Eve

that night  hike it up to the town graveyard and lie awake on a tomb.          
         
jump over the tall cement walls.          
         
It helps to be as thin as a rail and still        
with some muscles to do the deed.            
         
might want to take off the backpack,        
 as the straps can bite into your chest,        
under your arms and cut off the circulation.          
         
slipped back off the tall wall        
after first furious attempt to make it over.          
         
arms lost their strength        
 off cheap green backpack and        
threw it over the wall.            
         
took a few deep breaths feeling the blood flow back into my arms and        
 put hands on the top of the wall and        
pulled myself over, successfully this time.          
         
made way to a comfortable looking slab        
underneath was buried some soul.        
used backpack as a pillow and        
lay head down and slept.            
Shortly, heard a night watchman open the gate in the near distance, and blow a whistle        
must have made quite a ruckus getting over that wall        
            
         
remained comfortably motionless        
 would not be an easy find in the darkness        
       
  The night tropical air of southern Mexico         
experienced no chills even while sleeping on a slab        
which was bug free          
         
I remember entering that cemetery but do not remember my departure        
Obviously, as I am writing this 27 years after the fact, obviously, must have left.  Obviously.          
         
But the woman whose grave I slept on is still back there and        
 it is not possible to explain how we made love there        
 that night there is no conceivable way that bones with        
 no flesh could experience a night of passion so        
 must have been sturbing.          
         
must have been.      
 But I remember, her scent, brown face, brown eyes, and        
 tears cried when I, um,  into her shaking body. Maybe she was cold?        
  I feel her calling me back and my thoughts drift to my childhood as a wind carries me to that place in time  of my reckless youth      
     
Calling me back when I have just only left her for my once a year outing with spirits roaming the earth freely