Peppers
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The smell of charred peppers fills the room
It was the end of a sweet summer and
She had already pickled all the vegetables she needed for the winter
A product of immigrants chasing the American Dream
Country full of racism and hate, it’s not all glamour and gleam
Witnessed dad beating on mom, can still hear her cry and scream
Mom was ready to move out with the kids
I witnessed in a root
that stood in my mother’s garden
Brown burning water to mud
then dust,
Polluting veins required for breath,
for leaves hanging like clipped
