The passerby who left the tiny painted peace rocks on my front steps with a sign saying for your beautiful garden that brings me so much summer happiness. The woman I watched pay for the groceries of the young man behind her in line. The man who saw the old man struggling at the stuck door, heavy bags in hand, and held it open with a smile. The two men walking down the street singing show tunes, their tiny dog wrapped in a pink boa and cradled in their arms. The young couple crying on the sidewalk after being robbed, and the neighbors who sprang into action to help them. The Spanish-speaking men who pulled their beater station wagon to the side of the highway after hundreds of cars had whizzed past me stuck in the snow, jumped out and pushed me back onto the road and waved me away, laughing and smiling. The girl I cash-apped money to after she told me her boyfriend had broken her leg, a story which may or may not be true but so what? We are each other’s harvest.

Excerpt from Paul Robeson, by Gwendolyn Brooks

We are each other’s 
business; 
we are each other’s 
harvest; 
we are each other’s 
magnitude and bond.

For more information about Gwendolyn Brooks, please click here.
alisonmcghee.com
Words by Winter: my podcast