Accents Publishing Blog
Family History
01Jul2016
article by
Beatrice Underwood-Sweet
LexPoMo 2016 Poems submitted during the Lexington Poetry Month 2016 Writing Challenge

I took a tour through my father’s childhood–
the house on Coles Boulevard,
the hill where his elementary used to be.
We drove down main street and 
he told me all the names 
of stores no longer there.
We stopped by the church 
where my grandmother misheard
that Hare Krishnas were in the sanctuary
instead of hairy creatures.

I asked the questions I never had,
learned things I never knew.
No one still alive knows how my 
grandparents met.
My grandfather ran the motor pool
in World War II.
How my great-grandmother, my namesake
put up with my raving lunatic
of a great-grandfather.
(The reason
I can never marry 
a man named Frank.)


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