I pray my neighbors remember

that when la migra comes for the least of these— 

my brothers and sisters—

they will find shelter in my corridor

and bread on my table

and the sin of empathy pouring 

from the faucet of my soul. 

Awake, awake my soul. 


I pray those shaking and silent,

fearful of standing when Nebuchadnezzar says to bow,

remember t…