letter to my transgender daughter
I made soup tonight, with cabbage, chard
and thyme picked outside our back door.
For this moment the room is warm and light,
and I can presume you safe somewhere.
I know the night lives inside you. I know grave,
|1974||Mother Earth: Her Whales||Gary Snyder|
|2017||21 November 2004||May Yang|
|2017||Instructions for Stopping||Dana Levin|
|1989||For My People||Margaret Walker|
|2013||Autumn Ritual with Hate Turned Sideways||Brenda Hillman|
|2016||Book of Statues||Richie Hofmann|
|2016||what the dead know by heart||Donte Collins|
|2016||Shared Plight||Kamilah Aisha Moon|
|2016||Incendiary Art||Patricia Smith|
|2016||@ the Crossroads—A Sudden American Poem||Juan Felipe Herrera|