Before Your Arrival
By Ellen Haganthe ones who brought your father here, come. Bring
with them whole almonds, dried berries & clementines
wrapped in cloth. Their clothes & smart shoes too.
Search Results
Loss is an art, traversing one world to the next
By Purvi ShahThe mehndi is leaving my hands,
brown swirls dissolving into brown skin.
Somewhere you are traveling
14 haiku
By Sonia SanchezYour limbs buried
in northern muscle carry
their own heartbeat
Making History
By Marilyn NelsonSomebody took a picture of a class
standing in line to get polio shots,
and published it in the Weekly Reader.
I Will Not
By Kathy Engelwrite about the killing of Troy Davis or
the years he claimed innocence so many times
the words fell from his mouth like drops of honey.
Let Daylight Come (Little Rock, circa 2008)
By Antoinette BrimLet the moon untangle itself
from the clothesline, as coming daylight
diminishes its lamp to memory.
The Wall
By Grace CavalieriThe child stands weeping.
She holds uncooked rice in one hand waiting.
She's idealized into a picture
Belly Song
By Kathleen HellenI sit in the front row of
bleachers -- cheap seats for greater grief.
My son
Rain Dance
By Rashida James-Saadiyawe scatter
dodge words that rip into flesh
hide from clenched fist