What he left behind in the smiling sun
He dared to bury ours in the silty soils of the deep Skane forest—my father’s father’s father—
from a peasant’s straw bed to servant’s hayloft to the sweating vomit in the hull of a steamer cargo to a weedy Nebraskan soddy dripping with snakes—
an earth dweller with his kin and livestock, digging a new life, hiding inside a new world
not unlike the one he left.
But with a new name.