Guanajuato Ritual

 

The rain is thin
silver chain.

Candles, white doves
with halo beaks

that dot
broken window eyes.

We let you
clasp your favorite doll

for the last
family portrait.

We seat you
as the head of table.

We party,
you never move.

Teapots steam
little locomotives.

Calla lilies, angels
waving goodbye.