The View from Here

I looked in the mirror and smiled;

There they were

Looking back at me,

My mother’s squinty blue eyes,

My grandmother’s squinty blue eyes,

And on and on. 

One eye squinty-er than the other,

Framed with wrinkles

Etched by years of joy’s blossom,

Grief’s shadow,

By the river of life. 

These eyes a connection of generations,

A line of strong women,

Genteel, Southern,

Backbones of steel,

And hearts full,

Looking out onto the world

Through the eyes of stories,

Long told

And those yet to be.