One Poem by A.K. Alder

The Day I Joined the Trans Running Group 

I ran past the fountains 
where the winter luminaries 
have become stories
strangers tell 
between breaths.

As part of a pack, I sprinted
and my gender jogged beside me
instead of in glances 
behind the back, scanning streets
for scathing eyes, red hats.

I ran toward the city
I’ve been running away from 
since the first Miss, the millionth Ma’am,
tied tight together shoes that never fit
and launched them over the telephone wire.

A.K. Alder (they/them) is amplifying the words of Priscilla Wathington and “asking you to resist the lie that you are too helpless, or too busy, or too small to do anything. Take your small hand and your small voice and add it to this symphony against the genocide taking place in Gaza; and speak up not only about Gaza but also Congo, Sudan, your own backyard, and everywhere that humanity is at risk.”