To the Once Enslaved of Morris Hall

I work for the ancestors. I have never worked for anybody else. Alice Walker To the Once Enslaved of Morris Hall: BlackberriesSweet blackberries and grass that smells of onionsWhere rivers cross by, carrying messagesTo the roots of the treesHere since the land was fertileAnd toiled. Here have set foot‘Scendents of yours

Ancestors

I wrote this poem about healing through our mothers, particularly from the pain of sexism and racialized gender violence.