This morning I woke to the smell of winter,
thinking of you searching for hope. Where
are you looking? In the bodies of women
who are strangers to you. In rice fields
and temples; in classrooms and markets;
in the dangerous sea. Though this valley
is bare, the mountains hide in a thin veil
of snow. If I set a place at my table for all
my dead, will they come? I am waiting
for hope. I know you are there, but you
are well out of sight.
The Day of the Dead 1 November 02005
One response to “The Day of the Dead 1 November 02005”
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I read this three times: first as a blog post, then as a poem, and finally as a prayer.
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