ten and wild
brown hair flying 
the van hatch opened to
 a row of blues and yellows 

mamaw pointed 
to the trunk
layered with plastic flowers
“this is your job someday
when I’m gone sissy,”

chosen, I began 
duties of matriarch
the stories of my kin 
reselient, women 

it seemed a lonely love
keeping memories alive 
of ones you never knew

twenty years passed
and I sit on my plot
beside your stone 

UK blues and yellow marigold 
ready to tell your story 
to anyone