Dance to the Music of Justice
by Nabin Adhikari
We lived in a desert storm. We
left home at midnight, leaving the only real
friends I had, to go to a cool-
weather storm of a new country. We
were unwelcomed by the new community, left
to find another school
for a better temperature of our relationship. We
erased the memories of back home lurk-
ing around my brain and forgot the late-
night beating from our motherland. We
took to the streets to strike
against injustice. We marched straight
to your home, to demand justice we
deserve. Sing-
ing for equality, we brought the racist sin
to your doorstep. We
raised the thin
glass cups we filled with our Monday gin
to stay hydrated, when we
played jazz
outside your White House on a hot Sunday in June,
sweating as we
danced to the fair song underneath the sun that will die
as the day ends. We will come back soon.
This poem first appeared in From the Fallout Shelter.