Heritable Changes

I saw my likeness
in the sepia tones of a daguerreotype.

A single ostrich feather in my Hardee hat.
The face stony, holding still for the exposure.

I was dressed for war.
Adorned with war’s accoutrements.

Then I saw the dead
the man who shared my likeness killed

with a Merrill carbine
and three Colt six-shooters.

I saw hope in the dead’s eyes
upon me spying them within the bounds of the photo

like suddenly their fright evaporated
and their shaking ceased.

Like the trauma of the grievous wounds
settled in my generation and expired.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s