November 2: Día de los Muertos 1 It is not simply the Day of the Dead—loud, and parties. More quietly, it is the day of my dead. The day of your dead. These days, the… Continue Reading
Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why… Continue Reading
Fall Song It is a dark fall day. The earth is slightly damp with rain. I hear a jay. The cry is blue. I have found you in the story again. Is there another word… Continue Reading
Hunger When I rose into the cradleof my mother’s mind, she was buta girl, fighting her sistersover a flimsy doll. It’s easyto forget how noiseless I could bespying from behind my mother’s eyesas her mother,… Continue Reading