On the Day of the Dead, Ajijic, Mexico



Desert Rivers


DSC_1291DSC_1235 These three Mexican gravediggers must know

Deep, earthy truths about dirt and regret.

And know something of halting words that flow


In desert rivers that have dried and set

Like misspent hope beneath the desert sun,

As if rivers might cleanse an earthly debt.


When the final words of last sad songs run

Like faltering rivers across this day,

Gravediggers know an ending has begun.


These three Mexican gravediggers won’t say

How desert death encircles birth to grow

Startling blooms in the barren sunbaked clay.


These three Mexican gravediggers won’t show

The ways ice cold embers reclaim their glow.


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Filed under Mexico, Poetry

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