El Paso morning and from dawn, drums on the Día de la Virgen de Guadalupe, steady as mules. Feathered dancers, provisional sun, rose and popoxcomitl inhabit the bright teeth of winter. Strength and vigilance are born in fire, household mesquite, salutary incense, seeds waiting to be sown by wind. Chocolate, smoked honeycomb, waters and fruit of the ocean’s skin, jamoncillo, tamarindo, for hours of dancing and celestial drums. The plenary pageant, tireless rhythm, and we, assembled, entreating our Mother. Barren branches in acidic waters sprout new roots to awaken spring. The day’s assurance below a beaded sky, and everywhere, light on whetstone walls, alive as sparrows; our neighborhood transformed, the drums, their sonorous voices like dancing jaguars or steady storms, transparent heartbeats, resonant clocks: Mother! Mother! Mother!
Charles Haddox (he/him) lives in El Paso, Texas, on the U.S.-Mexico border, and has family roots in both countries. His poetry has appeared in a number of journals including Birdcoat Quarterly, Volume Poetry, and Vita Poetica. charleshaddox.wordpress.com