I think about what it means to be adopted
dictionaries tell me nothing
a choice, an embrace
name overwritten
a leaf sewn to the family tree
How it must have felt for my grandmother
first grandchild once removed
she collected shot glasses, stir sticks
tiny jewel-like hummingbirds floating
on fishing line
There are things we take for granted
an echo in the curve of a nose, a talent for darts
telling us we belong
When I first saw the pictures
my own chin, my eyes, the crook of a smile
looking back at me
I broke into pieces I didn't know I'd been
holding together
Notes: The original prompt for this was was to write an elegy that included tiny details about a person. I was thinking about my grandmother and her shot glass collection that always fascinated me and somehow it turned into whatever this is.
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