cousin love beats all:
it spans a small continent
and breaks the divide
childhood
Day Twenty-Three, Road Trip 2016
Day Twenty-Two, Road Trip 2016
our cycle closes
with a capital bike ride
and a pointed view
this city has won my heart
even in the heat
through a symmetrical stroll
of fallen soldiers
museums, monuments, paths
marking past; future.
remembering our lost dreams
in these reflections
Day Twenty-One, Road Trip 2016
Day Twenty, Road Trip 2016
in the man’s big house
they built him a three-room suite;
his children lived here:

remnants of slave life:
hard-hitting and far-reaching
(Black Lives Matter. Now?)
they dug up red clay
to lay every brick … by brick,
by breaking their backs

his famous status:
founder of freedom, writer
(declared our country)

brick by brick by brick
he laid his lies and kept his slaves
and wrote our future

and we swallow it
and throw coins at his gravestone
and try to forgive

they all shared this view–
from the big house; the slave house;
the land formed by God

and so we move on,
brick by brick by road by road
to see its beauty
Day Nineteen, Road Trip 2016
Day Eighteen, Road Trip 2016
Day Seventeen, Road Trip 2016
Day Fourteen, Road Trip 2016
Girl Scout Headquarters
mixed with colonial wealth
(built on the slaves’ backs)

sometimes beauty’s marred
history’s hard to swallow
amid perfect squares

yet we walk through it
splashing, playing giant chess,
our steps going on

pieces of our past
even when they’re earned with blood
mark a clear future:
we can absorb this,
take pics, eat gator, and grin,
hoping we’ve moved on
(though the shadows know
of King Cotton, oppressed girls,
Sherman’s burning march)

we can’t have it all
the vacation, family… peace
without the whole truth

we can just love them
hope they never see the dark
(only the beauty)














































