Poems

In Every Immigrant Home That Tin of Royal Dansk Butter Cookies, Blue as Old Water, Without Cookies, Filled for Sewing with Buttons and Notions

By Sasha Roque Pimentel

Some of us lived. We touched
the tin, the paper, with

regard. Our emptied then
laded spaces: treasured

shelters, places to keep
the things we'd hoped to mend.