Here are the daffodils I made from crepe paper. I planted them in the midst of The Four Sons (characters from the Passoer Hamada.) The poem is dedicated to spring and freedom.
From time to time I still hear
The subtle clinking of links
And the hammer, the fear
In the shadow of the sphinx
Whose eyes—empty caves—
Gape at our toil, blood, pains…
I am the daughter of slaves
I pray for all people in chains
Will their spring ever draw near?
The oppressor’s eye suddenly blinks
But here, I still hear, I still hear
The subtle clinking of links
Four Sons
(The smart one, the wicked one, the simple one, and the one who doesn't even know how to ask)
