BY AMY LIU
Did you know that peoples flocked to our homeland, small like grain?
They brought their moms & dads & children to this dreamland, small like grain.
Oceans sailed footprints seared hearts sacrificed—they soar,
following trails of endless prosperity littered with ampersands, small like grain.
In this land of refugees, I learn the follies of nomads / Did you know?
Whispers of native tongue and worship are contraband, small like grain.
Mother comforts me in broken yīng wén:
Your words can make hate disband & love demand, small like grain.
Have I ever told you about your tulip hands, small like grain?
They can level mountains & push boulders & shovel sand small like grain.
Amy Liu is a woman of color and 16-year-old poet based in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, who is passionate about leading intersectional activism via poetry and literature. Her poetry is featured in National Braille Press, Neshaminy Journal, Her Culture, and more.