Inheritance

A poem

Photo by Kevin Noble on Unsplash

shaking hands, knots in stomach
sweat under the arms, imagining
my life into a graveyard
unable to breathe in a grocery store,
while driving down the freeway,
stare at nothing, pace the room:
this is my heirloom
handed down, lasting generations
I would have preferred a quilt, something
to keep me warm, a hope chest with
a wedding dress, a rocking chair
instead, take my chest full of aching,
these cold hands, wrap it all around you…