Nighthawks

Nighthawks

Poetry by Noon Abdelrazig It was thirty minutes to midnight. Harvest moon heavy in the quietening sky, blood orange whispers in the trees, sealed by the humming rhythm of the glass, the bus engine playing jazz. You sat there facing me, sad-eyed, globed shoulders,...

Black Lives and Minds Matter

**I dedicate this article to my Grandmother Augustine Ellis, from Louisiana, who survived Jim Crow, and sacrificed to create a better life for her family, and more recently fought and BEAT COVID-19. She turns 86 on June 1st, and she is my guiding star. Happy Birthday...

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