In this blood house of my genetics
where ancestry has determined skin and bone
I wonder if this knifed clay bears a deeper resemblance
to spirit than my face reanimating death.
Are the words that come when sleep evades
the poems of another’s dreams released
on a sea of stars to reach the sand of my pen?
Names hang on a family tree where mirrors see
but can’t hear…Somewhere in the puzzle I am a verse.
©Susie Clevenger 2015