Not secrets but
Living room lights are
City flowers
Blooming in the Spring dark

Hiss of alligatored wood
Light in the hand
Uncertainty of
Eviction arson and
Unintended prayers
Sing in the smoke are
Sing again in
Every greyed mirror and
Clouded bowl of water

Kim Shuck is a poet, weaver, educator, doer of piles of laundry, planter of seeds, traveler and child wrangler. She was born in her mother's hometown of San Francisco, one hill away from where she now lives. Her ancestors were and are Tsalagi, Sauk and Fox and Polish, for the most part. She earned a Master of Fine Arts degree in weaving in 1998 from San Francisco State University. Kim edits Rabbit & Rose, performs beat poetry in San Francisco, and is a well-known poet and quiet activist for Native people. Find her at

Imace Macro by Luna Temple