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25/30 Untitled.

By April 25, 2013October 12th, 2022Blog, Poems

Many have held so tightly to patriarchy. They no longer have hands to hold, grip-locked and wedded to a system of perceived intellectual prowess, and no informed feeling of the matters we are currently facing as a world, as friends, as people. To let go is what so many have done, are doing, now more than ever. For if we do not, we succumb to the reaching for fists. Fists with no fingers…

 

my father’s earth broke at last
i never dared to dream in this soil.
to the land and to its sunlight:
your arrows were grim.
my deity, sacred and all,
has left the house.
face the moon
kind and glowing
bearing light in gloom
where by altars
scattered within—
a yoke of flame,
shining.