Redwoods by dorianne laux
You had to have
been there to know such joy,
fear intermingled, my limbs
tingling: ancient, mute.
Making Fire From bone by stephanie mines
Let the ash turn to gold now, Mother,
For the children of the future.
You had to have
been there to know such joy,
fear intermingled, my limbs
tingling: ancient, mute.
Let the ash turn to gold now, Mother,
For the children of the future.