Thursday, December 1, 2016


I strive to be
A keeper of the links
That bind us all,
All us cousins,
Children of four sisters
And a brother.

There were twenty seven
Including those adopted
And one who died at birth.

And now so few are left
I have to stop and think
Each time I make the list,

All of us descended from
Or allied to a pair who passed
Years before
Most of us arrived,

All of us connected
In some wise
To Oklahoma,

All the offspring
Of the westering
Our family made
Across the plains
More than a century ago,

All different,
Yet half of each the same
And tied that way together
Even after we are gone.

©2016 John I. Blair

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