marigold petals creating paths for the dead
cempasúchil

Aunt Maggie’s beautiful sagging satin skin
the key to good fudge is the cast iron pan and lots of butter

letting soft sand sift through my loose fingers 
the sea renders all hard things to silt

on slow mornings when my lover peeks her eyes open
a hand that is searching for a hand can stop looking

summer evening rain relinquishing cool drops onto my face 
back porch kale leaves curtsy and dance