Inheritance

For Charlotte.

I am not far enough away
from my childhood to write those stories.
Or at least to write them
and sound wise and accomplished,
like I have learned those lessons well
like others
will now benefit from the telling.

I have not yet joined the ranks
of those privileged to speak
the tales of the clouds
the eagles’ gaze in the warrior’s eye
the moment of killing of surrender of joy
of those who knew the sun
when it was brighter and the trees
when they were small.

I will watch the sun,
as it is now younger
than it will be in the coming days,
and when I sit and tell of these present things,
I shall spin the curls
into a woman’s hair and the moonlight
into her eyes
I will voice the young man’s strength,
both what he had and what he thought he had:
of his feathers now faded
and spears lost at war.

I will tell of dancing and battles—
I shall sit and speak of these things.