When Dia de Muertos will come
Red candles will flicker and glow
The spirits will come from above
In Dia de Muertos the tears will flow.
The sugar skulls will decorate the altars
Gold marigolds will dream of being white
Food resting in alembicated platters
Will spread aromas in the Aztec night.
When Dia de Muertos will pass
Bell churches will swing in the air
My fervent hands will touch your skin
And occult passions once again will flare
When Dia de Muertos will pass…
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Photo credit: pixabay.com
I remember seeing the celebration of the Dia de Muertos in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico many decades ago. Your poem reminds me of that time.
Frank, I am glad it does. Thank you for stopping by!
I loved this!
Thank you so much!