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South Fork Poetry: ‘Day of the Dead, Oaxaca’

By Carol Sherman

With bright eyes

we look out from photos;

beautiful and strong

beloved mother, sister,

wife, friend.

Why do you cry? 

Were we really here?

You remember our warm breast

our soft lips.

The altar is laden

with sugar cakes

skulls with sequin eyes,

four-foot candles,

sentinels guarding

your memories —

the folly of attachment.

We leave behind

a whimsical smile,

a tender gaze. 

Like tea from a broken cup,

seeping into the carpet,

we are absorbed again

into the universe.

Carol Sherman has just come out with a new collection of poems, “Adios, San Miguel.” She lives in East Hampton.

 

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