Poetry and Prose: July 2020

The Hummingbird and the Honeybee

On either side of a sunny spot where a flower garden grows, live a hummingbird and a honeybee. You could say they’re neighbors. Not the neighbor right next door but a neighbor two streets up.

The hummingbird and the honeybee love their nectar, so several times a day, they visit the garden where the flowers grow to see what’s new in bloom.

On this particular day, they were startled to find themselves cheek to beak, admiring the very same flower. They just smiled and laughed, and with a warm ado they hummed and buzzed away.

Though they didn’t know each other well, it is always good to see them.

—Written by Michael Rastovich
michaelrastovich.com

“I am not my past”

I said forlornly

Speaking to nobody

in particular

Hoping that nobody

would hear me

I wonder what it is

That carved canyons

Into my skin

I wonder what it is

That keeps my heart

So far away

From my chest

—Written by Cabbage Merchant

won't you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.

—Lucille Clifton, “won't you celebrate with me” from Book of Light. Copyright © 1993 by Lucille Clifton. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press.
Source: Book of Light (Copper Canyon Press, 1993)

Dear White people,

Please stop using dark skin tone emojis. Our skin tone is not for you to use. It is not a productive way to show your allyship. You’re not being inclusive; it’s insulting, and you can do better.

—Written by Your Friendly Neighborhood POC