Copal was her safe space.
It was her 24th Día de Muertos.
*
It was her cousin’s Tepotzlán backyard
protected by coats of Aztec marigolds,
these small representations of radiant sun.
*
The trailing aroma of marigolds
guided her ancestors back
to grace her with their presence.
*
They didn’t let her forget who she was:
She was beautiful, and she was strong.
They didn’t let her forget the people
*
she came from: kind, generous and alive,
despite being disregarded more often than not.
About the Creator
periwinkle_poet
Poems by a dark, sweet, and semi romantic Latina, all in one 😊 I'm finally sharing with you what I've been keeping to myself. I hope you enjoy!
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