. A blackout poem made from a page of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Lines are crossed out with black marker and the words of the poem are underlined in red and connected with red string. At the bottom is a cutout of several drawings of plants.

By Olivia Davis

The named and unnamed
lie asleep,
blood,
has not gone out of the place,
It waits for
When there are no more memories of
the soul
the earth,
liberty
till all cease
I do not know
myself
In defeat
or even in
victory