|‘Meek-teka-see-wahdl’ or ‘Meek-teka-kee-wadl’, in Aztec mythology she guards over the bones of the dead.|
She brews fruit on open flame,
calling souls of vanished loved ones;
gurgling marigolds and cockscomb
fill a dark room’s altar,
copal incense burning sweet
and thick encasing the air.
Lady of the dead with her jaw gaping,
swallows the stars of day,
leaving flickering carved out eyes.
She thumps across the sidewalk,
a bottle of magic tucked beneath her robes,
promising green meadows for respite,
and days of tempered sunshine.
From a roof’s gutter
an owl watches, twitching,
caught by her presence.
La Catrina rests
bloody, crooked hands on aged
bones in endless sleep
— Pamela Sayers
An artist by profession, Pamela Sayers poetry is in part inspired by Mexico. Now living in Puebla, the former New Yorker teaches English while absorbing the local culture. Mictecacihuatl — a poem that celebrates Mexico's Día de los Muertos — first appeared on wordsandthoughtspjs in a slightly different format.
One of Pamela's previous contributions to the Bar None site, Water, Wings and Alliterated Wishes is atop our Hall of Fame as the most read submission within the Bar None Group pages.
Congratulations Pamela and continued thanks for allowing us to share your poetry!