To become as small as I can get
in their presence. That’s my goal
for when I see them at last.
I want to stand before whatever survived
the slow dissolution of flesh and bone
and look up to them. I want them
to feel like the giants they are to me
as I kneel
and fold myself up
and call them grandmother,
grandfather;
other names beyond those,
names for the distant ones.
I want to know those names
so badly I would
give up my own.
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