Another Monday
Oct. 30th, 2006 01:42 pm Ofrenda For Lobo
Pat Mora
Come, fierce guardian angel
in black shoes. Let me whet
your appetite. I've gathered
all you loved, or still love,
for this altar , tiers of sweet
temptation, earth's delights.
Visit me, if only for a night.
Come. Papel picado sways to guitars
white as starlight on this arch in bloom.
Velvet scents have I for you, champagne
mists of pale perfumes, crimson petals,
green of pine, coiling clouds: countless
candles, burning, burning bright on this
altar to whet your stubborn appetite.
Drift back. Visit me if only for tonight.
Come. Sweet steam invites: cafe, camote en leche.
Melodies polite curl round you soft as this smoke
at midnight. Follow: click of rosary beads, rumors
of agua sants. Bite bread, white for our communion,
shaped like a wolf, you, head tense, shielding her cubs.
Come, books to lure you to recite old tales, and we
will reunite in cuentos of ancestors who rise at dawn,
lift their voices in songs of praise. Like wise incense
your worse rise, coil, whet your appetite; entangle
you, entangle me. Come. Visit, if only for this night.
Expect the number of posts I make to decrease once NaNoWriMo begins, and my insanity to increase. I may also start posting poems once every two weeks or once a month.
Pat Mora
Come, fierce guardian angel
in black shoes. Let me whet
your appetite. I've gathered
all you loved, or still love,
for this altar , tiers of sweet
temptation, earth's delights.
Visit me, if only for a night.
Come. Papel picado sways to guitars
white as starlight on this arch in bloom.
Velvet scents have I for you, champagne
mists of pale perfumes, crimson petals,
green of pine, coiling clouds: countless
candles, burning, burning bright on this
altar to whet your stubborn appetite.
Drift back. Visit me if only for tonight.
Come. Sweet steam invites: cafe, camote en leche.
Melodies polite curl round you soft as this smoke
at midnight. Follow: click of rosary beads, rumors
of agua sants. Bite bread, white for our communion,
shaped like a wolf, you, head tense, shielding her cubs.
Come, books to lure you to recite old tales, and we
will reunite in cuentos of ancestors who rise at dawn,
lift their voices in songs of praise. Like wise incense
your worse rise, coil, whet your appetite; entangle
you, entangle me. Come. Visit, if only for this night.
Expect the number of posts I make to decrease once NaNoWriMo begins, and my insanity to increase. I may also start posting poems once every two weeks or once a month.