Day of the Dead

One more year, the Day of the Dead

Gone the woman who shared my bed

Drifted away in November mist

Gone the woman at night I kissed


Grandma Angel fast became

Spirit with wings and heavenly fame

Walking along a gold-trimmed street

Never again with dusty feet


Brushing the dust away back then

She left on Earth a family of ten

So now we sit by the window and stare

Wondering what she’s doing up there

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