Flower befell.

Her eyes are dark
Sunken like craters,
deep like the desert nights.
Her lips are the color
of freshly drizzled earth.
Her hair is wild
like green ivy.
She is a queen.
She’s lived through wars,
death, child bearth, pain.
She’s crossed rivers,
so her children can live,
in an American dream.
She is the wind’s soul,
that lives through us.
The unacknowledged strength
that whispers,
“Not yet.”
She is the mother,
that cradles the pain
of the world
after mothers mourn
the loss of their children.

She is the love
we have lost,

in ourselves.




Introducing Amazon Handmade|Shop Amazon Launchpad – Explore new and inspired products from startups|Prime Discounted Monthly Offering| Save on Echo Show, Echo Dot and Amazon Tap | My love for THINX| Give the Gift of Amazon Prime
All photos, writings, poems, and opinions are my own.

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