Holiday China

Hot bubbles slide off the blue gold-edges
a dish washed by my grandmother's hands
with the same water molecules and my hands
now. The pens she kept in her glovebox
when I inherited her Chevy I found
neatly held together by a rubberband.
A small packet of tissues and a map.
She and my grandfather drove
out to see the Sequoias, Yellowstone
Besides the pens and china, I inherited
the wanderlust, my grandfather's love of National Geographic
and natural wonders
They tried to find his ancestors near Rochester.
I have since found their small hometown,
and walked the silent cemeteries
No word what they thought of the suffragettes
and abolitionists who thrived there
Just quiet roads and small towns, quieter
I can imagine they were proud volunteers
the Livingston County Regiment who fought at Gettysburg
or the ruffian Irish, not even citizens,
who resisted the conscription with fists


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