Lineage

from the shoulders of ancestors, our elders tell their truths

incidentally – with purpose, without judgement

giving voice to a history

awash in wisdom –

this oral narrative

this homage to lineage –

the unheralded wind beneath all of our wings

unvarnished, at times colorful truths

as we gather together on this day

Pat

11/18/22

Paper Boats

Moving across parched earth

a ground level dust cloud drifts

With the same breeze comes the scent of rain.

It was the rainy season and

somewhere in the distance

a quenching was in progress

Soon, it will be time for that soothing rhythm on the tin roof

Soon, it will be time to secure a spot on the verandah and make paper boats for the puddles

Then scampering down the steps through large plopping raindrops to set sail the next paper boat

Paper boat sailing – in this family of four kids, a rite of passage.

Pat

8/24/22

For the dVerse prompt where Jo is the host. The prompt words is Scent. To stop by to read or participate go here.

Grit

Ida is an old soul and the fiercest person I know. She was blessed with an abundance of that ‘no nonsense and why the hell not’, attitude.

Conversations this time had awakened deep feelings.

What must it be like going somewhere, and not know that feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb. Or, not having to endure the stares and the under- their- breaths mutterings.

Such feelings were never really shared out loud, they didn’t have to. They knew, being in the skin they were in. Ida too, had experienced this. On one occasion she was heard to say,

‘I didn’t know I was black till I came to America’. She would not elaborate.

But this too she tackled this with her attitude of “no, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife*.” This attitude had served her well; and serves her still.

Pat
7/20/21

*Zora Neale Hurston