My Generations Poem by Natasa To

Each Time I watch my mom
I find myself draw in
By an old memories of my father's life
And his father's before him
I hardly image what my grandpa has looked like
Or what's on his brother‘s mind.
Even then I turned to my imagination,
My soul has made me know.
He is no longer on the earth, he has left that set
The brown wrinkled skin on his face,
Those genes he shared with his offspring
I am so sure it reminds me of my daddy,
His relatives, his parents, me, my sibling's
And all of our generations
The best place to look was in the suffering of love