Bloodline
I was told
that my grandfather taught
the boys how to swim
by throwing them into
one of the ponds up our road
and I would stand at the banks
and imagine them struggle
while he watched silently
just in case they weren’t
going to make it
Later I watched them struggle
with everything but swimming
while he moved through our house
without even watching or asking
for that
just in case moment
not because he believed
that they’d be fine
but because he was already
finished and gone
I wasn’t surprised
when half-drowning
wearing a suit with three kids
and pretending to have it together
that there wasn’t a hand waiting
and here most of us sit
angry
because nothing is okay
but we’ll be damned
to see our own
drown
so we can’t
burn it all down
instead
we have to make it better
for those that come after
because I’m not like him
and you’re not like them
6 thoughts on "Bloodline"
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I like the imagery you’ve used.
I enjoyed this poem. Thanks for sharing it.
There’s a real sense of place in your writing. It’s urgent. I like it!
I was sold from the first stanza and the rest did not disappoint. I love this piece.
. . .as a victim of that particular kind of swimming lesson, i loved where you took this.
The use of learning to swim the hard (wrong!) way extended throughout poem works perfectly for what you want to really say!