Heritage || Sarah Gerald

I am from Herculean women
                  Who’ve never learned to trust
                  Any man save Jesus
Whose broad backs and limb-like arms have both
                  Carted harvests and
                  Nestled children
Whose collective list of sins rival Rahab’s
Whose bravery and sheer will
Cast a family net
Farther than they could’ve 
Dreamed
I am from afternoons
                  Decorated with soap operas
B.C. powder
                  Moon pies and
R.C. Cola
From hills filled with the laughter of 
                  Children unaware of the
                  Debt their lives amassed
From chewing tobacco served after
                  Aunt Lynn’s baked macaroni & cheese
From a mother whose mother ran liquor between
                  Carolina and Tenessee
I am from Sunday’s full of singing long after
                  We left the pews
I am from 
Divorce, 
Discord, 
Discontentment, and 
Unnecessary disputes
I am from an unspoken code
                  An intrinsic understanding that
                  I am because they were
Thus, I honor these women
                  Who’ve stood tall, 
                  Bowed low, and
                  Sacrificed 
More than I could ever know