All Saints

All Saints  

Forearms in sugar dust, the baker relishes

saying, “¡hoxe comemos ósos de santo!”

We eat the saint’s bones on All Saints day!

Biting down, I get to the sweet

marrow of it.

 

This poem is from my second collection, Santiago Sketches, which is entirely set in the pilgrimage city of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain. (For more on the background of the writing of the book, take a look at this post.) You can read more poems here, in Spanish and in English. Purchase information is on my website.