Friday, October 25, 2019

Ode to a Migrant Woman’s Feet

Her feet were in the soil,
they were a part of the land, 
held the secrets of the earth, 
knew the mystery of how seed and dirt and water 
become beans in pods,
kernels on ears of corn. 

Her heart was in her feet, 
was in the land, 
was in the mystery itself.

Her feet spoke.

"Estoy aquí.”

“I am here.”

Her feet were 
this word
to the world - 

"I am a person." 


- Trevor Scott Barton, poems for a brown eyed girl, 2019

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