Día de los Muertos



They all come for the celebration.  Dead

And undead alike.  Their wild-eyed mask

Adorning skeletons.  Eating and drinking

For the return of the dead.   Death

Is all around.  The isle of Janitzio crouches

InLakePatzcuaro.  The cemetery

With flickering votives and

Exotic flowers is more alive than dead.  A

Thousand candles like a constellation fallen

From the sky lights a graveyard filled

With ghosts who eat the living and return

As the mummies of Guanajuato.  Stacked

Against walls these unearthed corpuses

Remind us of the city of the dead and that

We are all mere groundskeepers for the funeral procession.

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