Inheritance
by Theresa Davis

born in the smoke and salt 
a gift given despite drought 
and questionable choices 
grandmother discarded 
waste spanning decades 
a dead tree 
in a yard of dead trees 
no one asked 
no one answered 
another block 
sand everywhere

I release you 
the smoke holding your breath 
the rock burdening your good heart 
lifted under wobbling legs 
give it away 
make your arms open 
a bell 
ring yourself awake

she had no idea he would return 
the gift of watered down love 
exactly how he received it 
without the fanfare of beards 
ignored abuse 
scorching his retreating feet 

he dug her grave so long ago
he forgot where he left her 
no one is willing to pick up the mantle 
passed away 
the prize returned to the dust 
from which it was born