Somewhere over the South Bronx

by Sally De Jesus

I make butterflies

with volunteers

here in my home

here in my homeless shelter.

Later I will hurt

later I will hit

here in my safe haven.

I get a warm plastic tray lunch with a peel-off top

and eat everything that’s not green.

Three security doors protect me,

my sisters, and my mom from the other hurt.

After the art project the volunteers leave

but the butterflies don’t.

Colored tissue paper clings

to the wings

of my heart’s memory.

MaNHaTTaN Linear