All Souls Dragonfly — Infrared Image by kenne
November in the Sonoran Desert.
Land of indigenous cultures
Whose names are true to nature.
Ghosts whose shadows grow wings
Standing in the graveyard
That has become a holy vortex.
The owls of the night carry
Voices whispering death is alive.
Dragonflies rest on dead stems only
To fly away, circle, and come back
Recognizing all the souls of the dead.
— kenne
(Inspired by lines in Luis Alberto Urrea’s The Tijuana Book of the Dead)
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