Blood and Soil

Blood and Soil

A Poem by Kristina Moulaison

I am the slave master’s

daughter

pulling squares of sugar-coated

bodies

out of black soil

fingering pain -

taking test bites

and shelving them

for harvest

 

skins bound to paper

while I

swing, blue eyes to heaven

bathed in golden light

while brown eyes

are pressed

to the dirt -

my father’s house

their holocaust

 

their blood in soil

feeding the cotton

in my

summer dress,

the peach that wets

my lips-

dripping

sweat, to salt

my memory

 

mother finds

scraps to throw

and calls it

Christian charity

to sow

where father slept -

my dark sister’s

hazel eyes

cast hungry, down

to earth - 


while sugar

swings

© 2017 Kristina Moulaison


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Added on October 20, 2017
Last Updated on October 20, 2017

Author

Kristina Moulaison
Kristina Moulaison

Bellingham, WA



About
I write. Read me. We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, la.. more..

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