The seedling grows
in her parents droppings.
The parent dies encircled
in her saplings roots.
The decay bleeding down into soil
is blood seeping up into birth.
It is this natural proximity
to past generations journey we miss.
How many know great grandpas name,
let alone his fame?
Who here knows his own childrens children
will weep, unprompted at his grave?
All this wasted rot!
No wonder when a child is asked
to trace his roots,
he cannot begin to find the spot.