The Inheritance

  

Every thing comes

from some where,

briefly abides and moves on

to still another where

and when, claims pronouns

along the way, or is already

(or instead), exactly what

or whom we believe

or pretend, they (or it) appear

to be, except for the story

we have not heard,

the trajectory we have ignored

or failed to see; anyway

adding depth and texture,

frequency and flow,

to the common weave,

stretching wide, raveling

as it does and will, marking heart

beat and recovery, holding up

and wearing thin, the grand tapestry

we inherit, whether or not we reach out

to claim what we have been given.