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Identity

M. West

“I can’t remember when I wasn’t as strong as an ox,
I was just born to work I guess, ” Maxine said.
Her world was not the same as mine,
I can’t understand her stories,
She can’t roll with my times,
But in practice, in syllables, in
survival, we are one, and we’ll
Always be. Matriarchs birthed
Matriarchs again, the cycle
continues, we strive to thrive
In the midst of despair, to death,
And even to our detriment, but
We carry on, always, the chant of
Our DNA.
“Momma was an old 30,
but maybe she wouldn’t have been
if things had been different,” she continued.
I wonder if her story will be mine,
If our blood will determine my fate,
But I carry on, always, the chant of
Our DNA.

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