Dia de los Muertes
Orange marigolds decorate bookcase altar
where framed photos of dead loved ones
remind us of family we’ve lost.
My niece is frozen in fading Kodachrome,
perpetually a grinning ten-year-old child
despite being twenty when killed in a wreckMy grandmother with her sisters
visits me in dreams, would never recognize me now,
almost ten years older than she was when she died.There are no images, just a newspaper clipping
about the youngest sister who passed
after only four days of life.I keep my parents on our bedroom mantle,
cherish happy memories of summer barbecues,
hear dad’s laughter, mother’s advice.November 2026
