
Who Were You, and Who May I Become?
by Alyse Gammons
"Will I someday leave behind / a fossil of fondness that is so enchantingly echoed / across the offerings to my resting soul?"
Like a ghost, lurks the day that I may finally
think of you fondly. Standing comfortably
side by side to your ofrenda, I think to myself
how, besides these reasons why, do I begin to
comprehend someone who I have never met?
Aimlessly I listen to ancestors alliterate the
altruism you so graciously left behind… and
yet what is this to me? Will I someday leave behind
a fossil of fondness that is so enchantingly echoed
across the offerings to my resting soul? Spilling
whispers of contentment and memories of life
and legacy to the garden of marigolds that have but a
chokehold on the square as they bloom around the
tombs. Diligently dancing to the sound of celebration,
their petals lifting up and down to the beat of the death
they represent. A resting, yet radiating, heartbeat.
Although I do not know you, I bake this bread to give you
