Claudia Patricia Gómez González is returned to Mother Earth
At the border children cry in cages.
I wake drenched in dark dreams.
My mother reaches from the grave. Nails catch the hem of my dress.
I fall on granite. Red streaks my shins.
Wrapped in a gray Mayan shawl, her mother is silent.
My father sits sobbing. Dust spots his black suit. Dried red roses
lie across his legs. Thorns pierce the wool.
Her father weeps.
Just returned twenty. Taking flight from violence in Guatemala. Shot
in the head by a Texas border agent. May 23, 2018.
Mother and father receive the white coffin carrying their daughter.
Its cover lifted partway.