From the Gut
I had my father's face
his mouth and eyes
his thin skinned heart.
Though those features have melted
and are smeared by old age.
I sometimes wonder if he ever had my
genetically maimed gut.
He never knew me
nor I him,
but I carry my mother's pain
her long gut-aching loss,
but her loss and mine
were never the same.
You can't mend a loss
you cannot name
and she could not shed
her gut-wrenching death wish
until it came for her.
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