Genealogy Thoughts

There - there is where I got my cheekbones and jaw.
His are not softened like mine,
but sharp and gray with time.


His sister - not quite like him,
but the laugh is just the same.

My cousin - my blood,
the pattern altered in face and form,
by the man her mother married.
Side by side no one would ever know
we’re two of the same clan.

Each generation farther from the center,
like a rag rug created by someone
who didn’t know how to end it.
Each concentric circle a little larger.
The original colors continue,
Each turn is different.
What will become of us when the center wears out?