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      July 1, 2015One DefenseRhina P. Espaillat

      One man regards another as a brute,
      like those his kinfolks purchased for their own
      use, like cattle, invisible and mute.
      But sometimes, unexpectedly alone
      in the soul’s light—dim, but not wholly out—
      the once-possessed confront him, and he sees
      a horrifying likeness: There’s no doubt
      this is a man. Even on his knees,
      or shackled, or in flames, or dangling noosed,
      clearly a man, like him. What strange distress:
      The would-be repossessor is reduced
      by silent accusations. How confess
      the common human blood shared with this man?
      He needs to shed that blood. And knows he can.

      from #47 - Spring 2015

      Rhina P. Espaillat

      “The poem is a response to some of the non-personal but keenly felt ‘excitement’ on the political scene, some of which feels like a national illness.”