Dear Frida

For Frida Kahlo’s Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird

​Artist: Frida Kahlo
b. July 6, 1907, Coyoacán, Mexico City, Mexico; d. July 13, 1954, Coyoacán, Mexico City, Mexico. 
Title:  Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird
Date: 1940
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My Dear Frida,
 
Today I listened for the hummingbird
but in the planet of eternity—there was only grief
and the hummingbird      did not come.
 
Usually I am accustomed to disappointment,
which like thorns—swathed         around my throat,
but today I cannot bear it.
 
I am writing to you because your eyes are open
and to be alive is to be erect
and to be seen            and to observe.
 
I also think this is what it means to be human.
 
Frida,
what I have known all along
is that something was always     almost happening,
 
to us    to you
 
and to anyone else disappearing.
 
We are only women      born in the land of bombs
exploding              in all the ways that women explode
 
and this is nothing unique.        I must tell you,
 
last night a black cat crossed my path
and this morning a monkey—the color of tar
 
sang the prettiest song          just where the ground began to split
 
I mourned for but a second,
 
because I am sure 
this is just a sign,        I know what it means to be human.

​"For Frida Kahlo's Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird" has been published by The Ekphrastic Review, September 2018