by Khadijah Lacina

i watch

through

dusty

window

panes

the glide

and splash

of tires

on rainwet

streets

the hipcocked

mama sweet

sly on the

corner

laughing

at the old

man on

the bench

whose words

are pushed

down lost

in the

murmur

of leaves

pressed into

unyielding

asphalt

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Khadijah Lacina grew up in Wisconsin’s Kickapoo Valley, a magical place where back-to-the-landers and rednecks peacefully coexist. Today, she lives on a small homestead in rural Missouri with her children, goats, chickens, cats, and dogs. She is passionate about speaking up, working for change, and is writing a book about the years she spent in Yemen. She is a writer, teacher, translator, herbalist, and fiber artist. Her chapbook, Nightrunning, appeared in 2017 from Facqueuesol Books.