our truck gathers speed as we approach the hills of el valle and for
a few seconds    i am in flight    we accelerate    embark the horizon’s
next hill    we brake    drive past algodón    pull to the side    of the
road    terremotos on perfectly spaced rows    i follow my father
plucks a boll     exposes white fibers in my palm    where clothes come
from    he says    fertile    is my father’s land


Gabriela Ybarra Lemmons was born and raised in South Texas, a stone’s throw from the Rio Grande. She was raised by migrant workers and earned her MFA in creative writing from the University of Kansas. She is currently a dual language teacher in Topeka, Kansas. 

[Purchase Issue 26 here.] 


Related Posts

Hall of Mirrors

November 2023 Poetry Feature: Virginia Konchan and Gabriel Spera

Gracefully we hold each other / architects and optimists / always at arm’s length like / congenital dreamers / tango masters slinkily coiled / bright candles in a hall of mirrors / whatever I propose you propose / to conquer repeating and repeating / the opposite.

Filipino immigrants at a farm labor camp

The Ghost of Jack Radovich 

Mama saw her boss, Jack Radovich, standing in her row during a sweltering San Joaquin afternoon. She was picking table grapes alone when he suddenly appeared, several yards away, gazing off in the direction of the blue-gray Sierra mountains.

hand written notes

Weekly Writes Volume 8: Accountable You

  Weekly Writes is a ten-week program designed to help you create original place-based writing and stay accountable to your practice in the new year, beginning January 29. We’re offering both poetry AND prose, in two separate programs. What do you want to prioritize in 2024? Pick the program, sharpen your pencils, and get ready