Dia de los Muertos

by Mark James Trisko

On Dia de los Muertos

the bones of our mothers and fathers

dance together on their graves

a sacred jarabe tapatío, a courtship dance

dipping, swaying, twirling

around their granite headstones

with joy in their absent hearts

in perfect tandem together

even after all these years in the ground

smiling with lipless mouths, winking with lidless eyes

their brittle bones clacking and clattering

in an ancient percussive rhythm

like the sound of a two-sided drum

a tamborita calentana

and the skeletons of our friends and relatives

gather round them in a joyous, spectral group

clapping bony hands, stomping bony feet

amongst the holy altars built with our hands

the ofrendas, the offerings

called home by the orange marigolds

we have placed lovingly on their graves

forming into a mariachi band

with violins, trumpets, guitarrón, vihuela

bowing and strumming with skinless fingers

blowing powerfully without benefit of lungs

wearing red scarves and white sombreros

playing a festive song of triumph

we have not forgotten our grief

and our lives ephemeral

but we have pushed those sad thoughts aside for the day

and instead, we honor our loved ones

in celebration and remembrance

and claim our resurrection

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After retiring recently, Mark James Trisko heard his muses yelling loudly in the night, begging him to let their voices be heard. His work has appeared/is scheduled to appear in Valiant Scribe Literary Journal, Spirit Fire Review, Amethyst Review, As Surely As the Sun, The Penwood Review, and Down in the Dirt. He currently lives in Minnesota with his beautiful spouse of 47 years, four wonderful children ,and eight above-normal grandchildren