Digging through the rock
Uncovering the bare bones
Looking for the past
I hunt for where I come from.
Ancestors’ ghosts appear on my face:
Great Uncle Charlie’s chin;
A laugh comes bubbling out
that sounds just like Aunt Ethel.
I treasure these gifts from those
But why oh why did I have to
get those bow legs from Grandpa?
Linking to dVerse Poet‘s open mic night.