Feathers NaPoWriMo 24

I have my grandad’s eyes –
“They’re angel’s eyes”, my daughter says –
Those golden flakes, like feathers,
Falling soft against a clear blue sky.

A funny kind of angel, then, my grandad,
Cough sweets, and Errol Flynn moustache. A sweeter soul.

Here’s how it is:
Things drift away, I’ve lost so many things,
Life is a constant sloughing off,
Those golden flakes, like feathers,
Falling soft against a clear blue sky.

I don’t have much of his
To pass on down. His handiwork
All broken up and burned,
His memories blurred to stories,
Then to myth, carved fragments
Almost lost on wind worn stones,
Those golden flakes, like feathers
Falling soft against a clear blue sky.

But still, I’ve passed these on,
These angel eyes. I’ve seen them
Looking from my daughter’s face –
The only part of her I recognise.
That stubborn DNA, hanging on in there,
Stronger than human memory,long lived,
scrawling its signature across our lives,
Those golden flakes, like feathers,
Falling soft against a clear blue sky.

NaPoWriMo suggests an elegy that contains a little bit of hope. I hope this fits the bill. I’m also linking it to dVerse, where Kim asks us to  write about heredity, specifically body parts we’ve inherited. 

19 thoughts on “Feathers NaPoWriMo 24

  1. I love the them of ‘angel’s eyes’, Sarah and the repetition of
    ‘Those golden flakes, like feathers,
    Falling soft against a clear blue sky’
    builds a picture of them.
    I also love the way you remember your grandad as ‘Cough sweets, and Errol Flynn moustache’. With mine it’s singing like Bing Crosby and dancing like Fred Astaire’!
    I don’t have much to pass down either, just a handful of photos.The bit that made me well up was the lines about your daughter:
    ‘…I’ve seen them
    Looking from my daughter’s face –
    The only part of her I recognise.
    That stubborn DNA, hanging on in there’,

    Like

  2. This is beautiful how you’ve combined the two prompts. I felt a slight catch in my throat at the bit about memories blurring to myths and there being little to pass down. I often wonder what will happen when I have children and what I was pass on of my family to them.

    Like

  3. Love your poem… DNA is like the ocean it does what it will and you cannot stop it … continually reshaping and recreating. Love the description of angel eyes and golden flakes that keep falling away! He must have been quite a guy!
    dwight

    Like

  4. such a beautiful tribute Sarah, to a legacy that keeps on living. i see my father’s eyes in my kids too especially the son I lost last year and i so relate to the moving words of your poem. each line is so lovingly crafted.

    Like

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