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THE GOOD ANCESTOR by Daverick Leggett Every day I walk a hundred years to the hill where my great great granddaughter sits. I carry words of blessing and reach to touch her back But feeling me near she turns sad eyed and heavy with grief “What was it like?” she asks “when the great whales swam when the birds sang you awake when the rains came soft and the soil smelled sweet underfoot?” And the blessings catch in my throat On darker days she turns, her famished face charred and eyes, sunk in their bony orbits, burn with curses. And the blessings froth at my mouth with the poisonous spume of betrayal On the darkest of all days I walk the hundred years and find no one there Let today be the bright day. Let today be the bright day I lay my hand upon her back And, feeling me there, she turns and blesses me, saying “Your love was fierce enough, sweet ancestor, your love was fierce enough”