February 17, 2020
321: Inheritance
February 17, 2020
321: Inheritance
Inheritance
by Camille Rankine
What have I To say in my wrong tongue Of what is gone To know something is Lost but what You have forgotten what You long forgot If I am What survives I am here but I am not Much of anything at all To be what’s left And all the rest scooped out And dropped into the sea My flesh Forming a knot on itself is a habit Learned from whom A mind reaching back Into the dark a body releasing itself Backward into space a faith I have no prayer in which to keep Am I home or merely caught Between two unmarked graves I’m saying where we live It’s a mistake A compromise I’m made to make I’m told come willingly Halfway across a bridge to where I’m halfway human Or else A door bricked over Behind which all I am To be shadow cast by shadows cast By no one’s hand And now Whose fault am I It’s said I stand against the grain Of natural law A being in chaos In argument with itself What would it be To be simply I am here but what of me That’s gone stays gone
Used by permission of the poet.