* La vaca, "the cow" in Spanish.
#AmericanWriters
Going out to the garden this morning to plant seeds for my winter greens —the strong, fiery mustard
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
If my sorrow were deeper I’d be, along with you, under the ocean’s floor; but today I learn that the oil that pools beneath the ocean floor
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.
You confide in me that you are lonely,
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
My brothers knew The things you know. I did not scorn learning them; It’s just my mind
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
The tree of life has fallen on my small house. I thought it was so much bigger! But it is not. There in the distance I see the m…
When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder
With your unknown to me Odd magic You came To me: