Oh deer / Jinx (they/them) / https://www.instagram.com/opossumink
BURIED
My knuckles white as bone
My fire choked with irons
Tension in my voice
I try to read the room
Hiding my distrust
Contorting into shapes
Buried in the earth
Shouldering that weight
It may be hard to breathe
But maybe … I’m a seed
— Sara Quinn
Sidewalk ICE
Its cold outside mama
ICE has hit the ground
Boots crunch on the pavement
Masks cover noses and mouths
Its cold outside mama
Breathing is harsh and difficult
People run in the streets
Heads down, looking for shelter
Its cold outside mama
The frost is dyed crimson
Icicles stick to eyelashes
Rage provides the only warmth
Its cold outside mama
Its so very cold
We fight against ice encased winters
Because the cause cant wait
Its cold mama
We look to our community
Hope blooms like spring crocuses
Delicate and beautiful
Its cold
But spring
Always comes again
— K.T. Cummings (she/her)
Aspiring author and slow content creator. Follow on instagram @k.t.cummings
We Protest
We protest
with teachers and nurses
with engineers and home makers;
with retired people and young adults;
with funny people wearing costumes
of dragons and frogs;
with people carrying serious signs
and walking with righteous anger.
We protest in solidarity
with those blowing whistles in frigid Minnesota,
with those carrying signs in balmy Los Angeles
with those stopping detention centers from being built in Arkansas,
with priests being stopped from ministering to prisoners in Chicago.
We protest brutality.
We protest murder and assault.
We protest federal officers
and detention facilities
with no accountability.
We protest for our neighbors who are being
brutalized,
disappeared,
warehoused,
deported,
terrorized;
with violence,
with no due process,
by nameless masked officers,
in OUR name.
We do not consent.
We will speak up.
We will call out.
Because “We the people”
are the democracy,
if we can keep it.
— Larry Morris (he/him)
Larry Morris is a retired pastor who lives and writes poetry in the Tri-Cities.
