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  • Writer's pictureasj

On 'Treasure: From Tragedy to Transjustice, Mapping a Detroit Story'

A mother's hands are neatly folded

She speaks, and her voice is neat as well.

"When you have a dismemberment," she says.

And her voice is

like her hands are:


"We were lucky," she says,

so earnestly we almost believe

for a moment

that what she is describing is luck.

"We found all the parts,

except her hands and feet."

And this is when her own hands rise

to do their work

they cover her face

but tell their own story of pain.

And I think of a photo

It's my daughter at age five,

sitting in tan oak bark in a playground

This is the first photo I have

in which I could see how

changed her hands and feet were

how time's passage could be marked

in the shape and work of her hands and feet

how much of her story they hold.

Treasure has another mother

She speaks plainly

"All the things I prayed wouldn't happen,


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