On this Dia de los Muertos

On this Dia de los Muertos, a poem influenced by the rhythms of songs by the late Bugs Salcido, especially “Beautiful like Smoke.”
(In memory of Bugs Salcido and Miguel Silva)
Around the plaza square ghosts, old friends
bask in the blue sunlight reflected by the moon
strolling as in languid dance, a sleepy tune
wanders into the dusty streets aloof.
Can the psycho señoritas see you standing there?
I suppose it doesn’t matter as much as before.
But the living can’t forgive the unplayed melodies
or unsung phrases to plant kisses on our mind.
Always snatching arrows flying through the air
that you transformed into blooming flowers
to scatter petals everywhere. Oh yeah,
that’s what you would do.
We fall short of our hero paths, just scattered notes
in burned-out shelves and sketches on the floor.
We all try to crystalize vapors in the air, but you know
all beauty belongs to its fleeting.
Just as you took what was cast away
and made them something new, who’s left
to declare it true? No one cares anymore
for open doors these days.
A song keys more to the moment
than the voice that’s singing,
as life is more about
the dream you were living.
TG Dickson

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