Why don’t you say grace,
from across the table
Eyes closed give thanks
Fingers all entwined,
Amen whispers through the flames
I love this kin of mine
But what good have I done to deserve it.
when everything feels foreign
and you don’t recognize yourself
go back to the table
remember familiar smells
the comfort of imperfection
the beauty of their yells
but I don’ think I deserve their affections
blackbird hits the window
as she held my hand and said
in a year or so
I’ll be lowered to the dirt
And you’ll visit occasionally
like a rose growing from the earth
your beauty will bless the breeze
through the mountains, the trees and the sea
and once in a while whisk by me
go on , go on,
this name will carry on
go on, go on,
in our children’s children’s blood
in our children’s children’s blood
in our children’s children’s blood