Taxco

Day opens with my elbow resting
On a wooden table

 

Sunlight filters through loose clouds
Above this colonial city on a hill

 

Where bougainvillea spreads over red-clay roofs
And the smell of fresh baked bread fills the air

 

Taxco, you are so much more than silver jewelry

 

You are the pink cantera Christ standing with open arms
The cantaloupe and spiny chayote laid out on bed sheets
Throughout the city
The bright red yarn braided into long brown hair

 

The artist painting intricate scenes with a single fingernail
The clay pots bursting with flowers on every balcony
The old woman walking to the market
Slow and steady

 

You are the boy pulling a burro to Santa Prisca Cathedral
The orange and yellow flowers left as offerings

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