Our California
Poems from Merced County
And We're Home
By Bethany Padron (College)
They represented the foothills, the train tracks, gravel high and waisted, my hands on my hips-flooding Yosemite Boulevard, the line of the valley… rich blessings running up the crevice of California’s soul
drugs and poverty on either side, but we still fought to save our loves – come back home and we will find you again, and again – the forever forgiver, where we tirelessly aimed for better
sidewalks were not the issue, the almond blossoms cried, revive agri-centralized perceptions of love in the grounds, hear our ancestors cry
do not let the train fuel dry, I cried – we are comin’ and goin’ home tonight
I missed her
the Central Valley joining these forces from the treasures of every coastal love, Morro Bay kisses, to the bellies of Jamestown hills, the highs up north where the Redwoods soar, and the lows of the Mojave south, the southern cacti and the Bakersfield fights where we became one, was where the valley tracks met, and I called the clefts of this valley my home
We are home here. Still, we forged the night, two hours to anywhere, bodies of water crisping angular mentions of growth and prosperity, bless - craving the coffee in Cambria
Steeped to stoop, guard your morning, guard your allies and befriend the cows and poppies, protection and liberation from ideologies of sameness, we divert and fight
We make Black life gaze, and all the while, we hum together – wherever the moon sips this porch light
and we cradle babies, lovers and elders, the grounds we ancestrally embody, and cry sorrow onto
It ain’t too late to change, California, we may have shifted our plates, but never our gate of stay and I hold you close, I hold you close while I pray
that you hold my families’ bones in their graves, wherever you sway, and hold our children in light for all skin tones, grafts for all bones, symbols for all stones, access for all homes – be the light we call home - California
We made you blush, get to the grind, and love us, we will take you to our war house, and we will home you in soul, for good.
Our Path
By Rachel Neff-Bracey
Eucalyptus sway and creak
Wind roars or
Flows softly through the leaves.
The smell is sharp-
When rain comes.
The Creek Wanders through
Low and-
High!
The ducks swim,
Crawdads scurry,
Hawks soar
and
Carp escape the fisherman.
The boy throws sticks
Into the creek.
The bridges are full of people
Taking photos.