Circles
Four generations and then came you To close the gap between Our all encompassing tug of war Womanly passions and duties strung along Over the decades. Our many missions to stay worthy Thrown into the blender of time, But you might be able to snap open the corset Holding us in stunted breath, Waiting. Let us inhale then Little passions calling to curiosities, Endless exploration, Sun and Moon over coffee Reflected. You may have to finish The melding of our four prides, Into one throbbing sword Settled in the cool autumn. And looking down on us Double glass windows Extreme patriots, Wuthering flags, Tradition, But dangerous ladies, We’ll hang colored beads instead, At the very entrance. Then you, Tanned cinnamon, Poignant cloves, Molasses, Riverdance on the radio Striding double speed The country roads we took generations ago. Already you stoke a fire Walking the line dignified, Already you stay silent And pick up a moment from thin ether, Too young to be a victim Of time run out. You may be the one to close it, The last of the circle And make our names all yours. We’ll give them to you gladly It is you who carries us through.