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.