Free verse

Day 350: Curly Hair

The texture of my life is not bound by the straightness of my hair. Though you try to tell me, that my dreams can only be achieved by the light reflecting off the glow of my porcelain skin, available today for the easy purchase of my identity. If the wishes I have can come true… Continue reading Day 350: Curly Hair

Poem

Day 310: Snow

How many generations until my brown skin turns white as snow? My black hair golden, shining in the summer's sun, my brown eyes the shade of the Kokanee glacial waters reflecting the sky my Canadian born accent, the same as my Canadian neighbor my words English and not Tamlish How many generations before I am… Continue reading Day 310: Snow