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Liza Sparks

PONDEROSA PINE

By Liza Sparks When a ponderosa pine
is over one hundred—
it sheds a layer of bark.
Deborah A. Miranda

We

By Deborah A. Miranda The people you cannot treat as people

Whose backs bent over your fields, your kitchens, your cattle, your children

We whose hands harvested the food we planted and cultivated for your mouth, your belly.

Jennifer Elise Foerster

From “Shadow Poems”

By Jennifer Foerster The war appeared to be coming to an end.

The no-name people not yet taken
left their crops for summer’s drought.
Tamiko Beyer

Equinox

By Tamiko Beyer Dear child of the near future,
here is what I know—hawks

soar on the updraft and sparrows always
return to the seed source until they spot
Lisbeth White

Hull

By Lisbeth White At the end of the field are tracks
train metal iron sound called whistle
to me a blare that splits air before it
Naomi Ortiz

Tonight: Rebellious Resistance

By Naomi Ortiz base booms opposite my scooter
rattles
I am obstruction
Darrel Alejandro Holnes

Breaking & Entering

By Darrel Alejandro Holnes Only beasts are supposed to hibernate.
But this brother has been lying there
for years. Truth isn’t a news headline.
Yesenia Montilla

I Was Wrong Running Doesn’t Save Us

By Yesenia Montilla once at eight years old I nearly gave myself a concussion running
my mother would braid my hair and wrap the ends in the heaviest
hair ties with the biggest colorful glass balls; they were lethal; as
María Fernanda

This Event is For People of Color - Ages 16 and Up

By María Fernanda We leave our leather. Finding a spot on Miya’s
living room floor, we untuck our bound things:
a borrowed yoga mat, a stretched hair tie,
Azura Tyabji

Diaspora

By Azura Tyabji If the meaning of the prayer was not passed down to you,
find it through holier means than translation.
Cling to the rhythm instead.
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