poetry
Monstrous regiments of women A fearsome sight Of your mothers, aunts, daughters In arms with strange women All fed up with your nonsense Our bottled rage Refined Defined By the places you permitted But forgot were where The acts of life were made Crafted Sewn Cooked Borne Born from your
poetry
The sky is too big As if it expanded to hold The years of memories I left behind Packed into boxes As brown as the land Under a sky too big
poetry
There are still roses I planted them in joy And fed them my hope For beauty, peace, and love There are still roses Even though I gave them Way too much coffee And not enough water There are still roses Despite the weeds that grew In the weeks that I