ORIGINS*
BY Ellen Birkett Morris

Daughter of Elizabeth,
her child of laughter
and fear,
who arrived early and
small
and survived.

Child of cerebral palsy,
shortened muscles,
poor balance,
still I walk.

Offspring of a writer,
whose countless hours
and
quiet dreams yielded a
novel
and passed word love
to me.

I am from the
generations before me,
drinkers, dreamers,
farmers, thieves.
Gone now,
remembered in my
genes.

*In 2006, this poem ran in Mindprints: A Literary Journal and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize, an American literary prize honoring the best poetry, short fiction and essays published in the small presses.