Archived Light [The archived light of the man burnt alive has lessened.]
The archived light of the man burnt alive has lessened.
His Black face barely breaks from sepia night.
His name worn from the weathered photograph.
The faces of white men shine brightly,
posing as if for portraits. I count the crowd
by how their straw hats catch the sun.
One man rests his hand on a boy’s shoulder.
Like that boy, I could walk—unmarked
except by blood—into such whiteness.
From Transgenesis (Milkweed Editions, 2024) by Ava Nathaniel Winter. Copyright © 2024 Ava Nathaniel Winter. Reprinted with permission of The Permissions Company, LLC. on behalf of Milkweed Editions, Ltd.
Ava Nathaniel Winter
Ava Nathaniel Winter holds an MFA from the Ohio State University and a PhD from the University of Nebraska–Lincoln is the author of Transgenesis (Milkweed Editions, 2024), selected by Sean Hill for the 2023 National Poetry Series, and the poetry chapbook Safe House (Thrush Press, 2013). Her work has appeared in The Baffler, Beloit Poetry Journal, Poetry International, Room, TriQuarterly, and elsewhere.