On the Eve of My 40th Birthday

I am thinking of you.

 

Since the day they took

that chunk of my leg away,

I have thought of you often.

How much more you suffered.

 

I’m 40 tomorrow

which feels like cheating.

Sneaking away,

getting away with something.

 

There is a part of you in me.

I know this because

they found it.

In a lab.

On a slide.

 

We’d have nothing in common today.

You a traditionalist and

me a wild, untamed spirit.

But I’d love to chat anyway.

To get to know you as a person

and not just part of my DNA.

 

You did not see 40.

Or your grandchildren.

I was first, but there were throngs to follow.

Though you are gone,

your legacy grows and grows.

 

Perhaps you can see all of us from somewhere.

But we can’t see you. I never saw you.

But under that dark cloud,

we are kindred spirits.