I wrote a poem for this moment when I was 18
at Cedar Riverside
I wrote a poem for this moment when I was 20
in South Minneapolis
I wrote a poem for this moment when I was 22
in North Minneapolis
I wrote a poem for this moment when I was 24
& they asked me why I keep writing about the same thing
I did not have the words at the time, only the body did
& at 27, I did not write a poem for this moment
where the only pages I bring with me now
are the pages of my passport
Because the truth I’ve realized is
poetry has never been about the words
Do not be mistaken
The poem was always our bodies &
The poem is being taken in the night
The poem is being taken in broad daylight
The poem stays home and no longer occupies the spaces the poems came together in
The poem calls their families asking if the other poems are okay
Has the poem eaten?
The poem was killed last week in South Minneapolis
The poem was shot the other day in North Minneapolis
The poem notices the bark on the trees, the crisp air, and the stark, beaming ice on the road but does not write about it
Because the poem does not want to confuse hypervigilance with beauty
Survival with just another poem
The poem talks to god at night
The poem reminds their children and each other to be patient
With great hardship comes ease, they utter
So alhamdullah
when the sun rises
the poem does too
The poem shows up
The poem understands they will say the poem is other, is wrong, is different
But the poem
is the poem is the poem is the poem is the poem is the poem
The poem shows up
The poem looks out for their neighbors
The poem does not allow their joy to be taken
The poem does not apologize for the languages they hold in their mouth
The poem shows up for us, for you, for we
The poem is 10,000 lakes and 10,000 ways to support one another
The poem is Minnesota
The poem stands up for their neighbors
The poem bears witness
The poem will be here
& most importantly
The poem is Good
The poem is Good
The poem is
Good
Editor’s Note: Mizna stands in solidarity with all victims of ICE terror and intimidation. View full statement of support here.

Muna Abdulahi is a Somali American poet and performance artist based in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Her work has appeared in Poetry Foundation and Button Poetry and has been showcased at the Minnesota History Center, among others. She is a recipient of the Fredrick Bock Prize.