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Posts Tagged ‘day of the dead’


In the woods, in the dark
we stood amidst old gravestones,
their engravings mostly scrubbed by time.
And Jon played gong,
Robin played chimes
and Evie played bass recorder.
And Owl read of the wood,
Melissa spoke of good life
and I hummed and played the breath.
We spoke the names
of our beloveds who have left.
Some names were spoken
only in silence.
The half-moon joined our circle,
as if it, too, knew something
of loss. As if it were showing us
that sometimes what appears to be gone
is simply unseen.
We walked home in that half light.

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Day of the Dead

it’s a miracle, I tell you

—Laura Kasischke, “Near Misses”

 

It’s a miracle, I tell you,

that I am here to make the breakfast

and spread the jelly

on the stale bagel,

a miracle for me to walk

down the icy street

in these scuffed up boots

with these scuffed up feet

and my scuffed up dreams

and my scuffed up love,

a miracle to wander through

the smear of the days,

the spill of the years,

my cells slowing down,

my candles blown out

and relit and blown out

and relit again,

yes a miracle, not just

biology, to feel it so profoundly,

this gratitude that I might stumble

and stride through the world,

a little hum finding my lips

as one foot falls again

in front of the other,

and is lifted, then falls,

and is lifted again.

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On a hill
in the sun
at the edge
of the grave
in the grass
let us meet
on the day
when the veils
are thin
between
the worlds—
and perhaps
the Aztec
goddess
will open
her fleshless jaw
so that all
the stars
fall out
as they did
today
so that we
might find them
inside
each other’s words
and speak
of darkness
with syllables
made
of light.

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