Just as I feel like I’m getting into a steady routine with my work and living in Detroit, there’s only 3 weeks left! I’ve finished mapping the locations of the farmsteads, which I’m very proud and excited about, and I’m hoping to get to attend the meeting with the stakeholders in the project before the end of my time spent here. In some strange way, I’m reassured by the realization that the time I’ve spent here has honestly only been a very small speck in my organization’s journey: my mentor, other members of the org, community stakeholders, and other local partners will continue to work on this project until this land trust is established and go on to start/facilitate so many more community projects in the Brightmoor neighborhood.
Here’s a little garden sonnet draft I wrote earlier this week (after gardening), to make up for how short this blog is:
Maybe summer is only this, sweat dissipating into the ash. Crowding
of the soil, brash breaths of homo sapiens corporeal, at once flitting
after frost. A bird screeches in a bucket of man-made tools. Enough
of birds. Too many poems spun of birds, of wings. Instead, I ought
to romanticize this garden, imagine symbols from legs of centipedes
perpetually indiscernible, sketch the stunning beauty of butterflies
named after cabbage. On my fingers, I discover streaks. Dusty yellow
residue from trichomes. Fruits red like an afterthought. Above, the sun.
How it kills our cells. Turns them against one another. How all regrets
feel invisible in the haze of heat. Here, I whisper, steal from me this
poem. Yes, here, where glass shards shape mulch, where cigarettes
lie on wired dirt like bodies, where wormed twines flee with wind—
even here, where every growth is a dichotomy, every observation
a poetic cliché—let me hold your glow. My words for your radiation.
Jessica! I, too, have been thinking about how my non-profit will carry on as I leave in August. It’s a little tough because I feel as though I will be leaving my non-profit at a time when they really need all the help they can get. I also recognize, though, that the non-profit has existed for decades before I entered the scene, and will surely continue to exist for many more. In any case, it’s reassuring to think about how our mentors will proceed with our projects (hopefully) and find new ones in the communities they serve too. Also, the sonnet is beautiful! I loved the descriptions of the natural elements around you- I can tell how the garden was on your mind while you were writing it haha.
Hi Jessica!! I so relate to finally feeling truly comfortable and “in the zone” at my community site and realizing we have such a short amount of time left. I love your reflection at the end of the first paragraph- that your work will help your organization to grow and your research will uplift its future projects. Your sonnet is so beautiful! You truly have a gift!! I especially love lines 4-7.
I can’t wait to read more of your writing that you share in the future 🙂