March 4, 2025

Poem: No home

 

 

 

 

The sun warms my face
I stretch my fingers
Watch the sunlight
Dance across my skin
Warm and inviting
In these moments of calm silence
I think about who I am
Who I was
And who I want to be
Increasingly so, I think about my privileges
My thoughts keep circling back
To the fear in people’s hearts
Of their homes being ransacked
Of being banished
They say they are protecting their own
But what does “own” mean?
Let our legacy be
That we protected those
Who could not protect themselves
I let the sun warm my face
Take a deep breath
And fight another day

 

This original poem reflects the author’s sadness witnessing ICE’s role in forcibly removing immigrants, the emotional toll on those affected, and the collective activism needed to protect vulnerable communities.