My latest on Silver Birch Press.
Mexican Hat Dance
by Betsy Mars
Golden, capped in the strong sunshine
against my father’s shoulder I stood tall,
and between my parents I felt alive
in this land so distinct and familiar.
The air was redolent with chocolate and spice,
electrical with lightning storms and surging hormones.
Taking the leap, cliff divers descended
in sheer drops for my entertainment
as I ate up the scenery and the sensation of being weightless.
My hat perched at a jaunty angle,
confident in a way I never felt
at home in a strange land.
Between pulpy bulls and bleeding fruit
proffered from vendors at the beach, I felt
like Hemingway discovering his muse —
but much less courageous,
cowering at night in the hotel room,
thunderstruck and hatless.
AUTHOR’S PHOTO CAPTION: Me in Mexico at age 13. This is one of very few photos that exist of me in a hat. Hats…
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