MIGRATION

MARLENA CHERTOCK

 
 

To block off the imaginary borders of our country,
as if we own land — an ever moving creature
that shifts on tectonic plates. Millennia ago,
America wasn’t even a pieced-together puzzle,
it was connected to different parts of the world
we now call countries. How dare we deny
 
the need to survive, to flee our only homes
and walk, take inflatable rafts, jump in the water
and kick our feet to propel them when the engines
die. We walk through deserts without water
to escape indescribable dictators who torture
generations of our families, who disappear us.
 
We migrate like monarch butterflies —
through the generations, ending up miles
away, hoping it’s safer, kinder,
filled with sweet nectar we can drink.
Just like the butterfly feels the call to move
for its great-grandchildren,
humans too can’t be contained.

 
 

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