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Ma Ma Zil

 

she fed me stories of soil  

hands calloused with quiet strength  

her name carried seventeen echoes  

a lineage buried in hard ground  

 

i called her ma ma zil  

before my tongue knew her name  

zilda belonged to fields and fire  

to a family that stretched thin  

 

she gave everything she could  

to fill the hollows of hunger  

no wealth but love in her veins  

her eyes knew my every need  

 

pressed into her sturdy arms  

i learned of sacrifice and survival  

her life a hymn to resilience  

she was poor yet endlessly rich