Hey,
See that lady protesting against injustice,
Es me Mama.
That girl in the brown beret,
the one teaching the children,
She's my hermana
Over there fasting with the migrants,
Es mi tía.
These are the women who worry,
Pray, iron
And cook chile y tortillas.
The lady with the forgiving eyes
And the gentle smile,
Listen to her shout.
She knows what hardship is all about
All About.
The establishment calls her
A radical militant.
The newspapers read she is
A dangerous subversive
They label her to condemn her.
By the F.B.I. she's called
A big problem
In Aztlán we call her
La Nueva Chicana.
Viola Correa
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Powerful. And an excellent photo, an 8 from me which would likely have gone up if I'd bothered to review and comment before rollover. I hope this gets views and people read the poem too. Thanks.
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