The history of my ancestors clings stubbornly to my DNA. I feel a sense of belonging to the tribe of tattered spirits roaming in the garden of my past; their lives are embedded in me and shed light on my capabilities. Like an eager apprentice who hungers for more knowledge of the stories of days gone by, I walk with the ghost’s tales until my body is weary. I hope to salvage their frayed and fragile utterances and weave them into my present. Their skills passed down to me propelled me into a bright future. I’m grateful to my predecessors.
I Write Her 
Wonderful, Susi. I love the beginning of this.
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Thanks, Sara! Glad you liked it!
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Susi I really love this prose poem! The line “I hope to salvage their frayed and fragile utterances and weave them into my present.” is marvelous!! <3
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<3 Thank you so much, Val!
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Everything lead to that last sentence “I’m grateful to my predecessors.” which nailed it for me.
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Thank you! I wouldn’t be who I am without them. :)
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So eloquently written Susi.
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<3 Appreciate it, Sadje! Thank you!
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You’re very welcome
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Well done!! You wove an interesting and believable tale from these words.
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Appreciate your kind words, Judy!
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History has a way of repeating itself, Susi …
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It is, but hopefully we can improve on history! Thanks, Ivor!
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You’re welcome, Susi
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nice, positive attitude!
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Thanks so much, Christine! It gives you hope!
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Well done!
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Appreciate it so much, Heather!
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Beautiful Susi <3 <3
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<3 Thank you for saying, Carol Anne!
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