Challenging Poetry

Mexico: Día de Muertos

with my two hands
I made a toy for a little boy,
a dragon, green with a fire red
tongue and spines down his back,
so that my little angel could play,
stepping from his headstone
to murmur secrets into his dragon’s ear,
and feed it candy skulls
and bring it to his pillow
and wrap in his blanket—
the one he carried with him everywhere
until it lost all color and warmth.
and then I called him,
leaving his place at the table
piled with good food, and smiling
as I remembered him, so that when
his time was over again,
I could let him go, slipping back into his
headstone, leaving only the memory
of a kiss on my cheek,
and a dragon to guard his way home.

line count: 21

Author's Note ▼

I've always been fascinated by the day of the dead, which feels more like a celebration than a time to mourn. In my research, I learned that there's special care given to the memory of children who die, especially on the first November 1 following their death. This was in tribute to that, without connecting to any of my personal dead.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead