Works
Tenderness
I know somewhere,
one day,
before we are to leave
and ascend
from this good, blue
Earth—
a little Black
boy will read this
(be it fridge or notebook
it may call home).
I have no
real words for you—
only marrow
and sucked bones—
only heart
and belonging,
and softness—
an irony of tenderness.
You, little Black boy,
will be handed
some grand adventure
I implore you to follow.
And hear me now:
"I'm so proud of you."
Well,
come on now,
come up out of that room,
drink and eat well,
get fat,
and don't forget to pray.
I may need you one day—
to share your back,
change these diapers,
and stir
these here beans.
To pick up around here
when I'm gone,
to hold my mule,
water these plants.
I may need you
to be brave
for braveness' sake—
to cling to the goodness
you weren't ever born with.
I may need you to live,
one day,
by being a part
of the reason
someone stays.
Moments as They Are
In Moments as They Are, Triston Dabney offers a radiant debut that gathers the sacredness of everyday Black life into a luminous archive of tenderness, grief, queerness, and spiritual becoming. Moving through the stages of Childhood, Adolescence, Adulthood, and Blessing, these poems weave personal memory with communal history, giving voice to the unsung rituals that raise us.
Dabney writes with clarity and care, honoring Black familial inheritance, interrogating masculinity, and embracing queer joy with reverence. Each poem is a small benediction, inviting readers to notice the divine in the ordinary and to hold space for healing. Moments as They Are is an offering of witness, a spiritual testimony, and a quiet revolution of care.
Perfect for readers of Lucille Clifton, Jericho Brown, Danez Smith, and Hanif Abdurraqib, this collection reminds us that to live is to bless, and to be seen is to become whole.