Content Warning: The themes discussed in this piece include historical references to slavery and the Trail of Tears.
By M.A. Dubbs
The verse of this city
is seeped deep into
the pores of its
limestone foundation.
The first Hoosiers
were stripped of land and home
but prose, inherited from
spoken word, was preserved.
A history of generations handwoven
into geometric narratives.
African folktale, spirituals,
kept alive under Midwestern stars,
their notes hidden
within the safe houses
sprinkled in a northern line
to freedom.
Slogan embroidery on sashes
and banners adorn women
dressed in white.
They chant, arm in arm,
towards police line,
pamphlets littering
the cityscape.
Handmade poster boards manifest
words demanding equality,
a call to action for Mother Earth,
the demand of justice, the want of
peace.
Bold, black sharpie fonts
hoping for the promise
of change within bill lines.
The power of words,
the vigor of verse,
safeguarding our history of change.
They’re the chronicle
of the fight for freedom,
composing a future ballad
for the day
we will all be free.
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