By John Drake
The bright heat hisses on a Mexican day
Colors of yellow, and blue and red
Sing to me on the Day of the Dead
Mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers
Gone into the ground
Not forgotten, young lovers.
Drugs and booze had taken many away
Or murder an illness- the body decay.
Skeletons walk down the road holding hands
Young and old dress up like the dead
Some had died single and some had died wed.
All is forgiven, but never forgotten
The lives of those lived in a small Mexican town
Where the smiles of the living
Are dressed up like a clown.
The sorrow is hidden
‘neath face paint black eyes
The pain and the suffering
A perfect disguise.
The drinking and singing
By the gravestones at night
A candle lit vigil
Till the night fades away
The tequila is drunk
Till the birth of the day.
The festival’s over
And the band goes away
The Mexicans leave
The dead there to stay
In the land of the living
On the Day of the Dead.
Puerto Vallarta March 2019
