We Pioneers
By Deidre Price
Screaming into forbidden, uncharted
lands,
we found a strange hope and home,
despite being blindfolded and naked,
alone even though we were together.
Hope is what you must feel in your
hands
when the land from which you flee
is a city of scars with a history never
stopping breathing
even though we held those stories under
water
and when they would not cease to kick,
we dried them off, and tried a flame.
When they would not die, we left and
led ourselves away
into a place as far as we could find
until our scars changed from red to
glass.
Our histories' lungs seemed,
at this great distance,
still and silent enough
to make us believe
we'd begun breathing
on our own.
