Taped to the wall of my cell are 47 pictures: 47 black <br />faces: my father, mother, grandmothers (1 dead), grand- <br />fathers (both dead), brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, <br />cousins (1st and 2nd), nieces, and nephews.They stare <br />across the space at me sprawling on my bunk.I know <br />their dark eyes, they know mine.I know their style, <br />they know mine.I am all of them, they are all of me; <br />they are farmers, I am a thief, I am me, they are thee. <br /> <br />I have at one time or another been in love with my mother, <br />1 grandmother, 2 sisters, 2 aunts (1 went to the asylum), <br />and 5 cousins.I am now in love with a 7-yr-old niece <br />(she sends me letters in large block print, and <br />her picture is the only one that smiles at me). <br /> <br />I have the same name as 1 grandfather, 3 cousins, 3 nephews, <br />and 1 uncle. The uncle disappeared when he was 15, just took <br />off and caught a freight (they say).He's discussed each year <br />when the family has a reunion, he causes uneasiness in <br />the clan, he is an empty space.My father's mother, who is 93 <br />and who keeps the Family Bible with everbody's birth dates <br />(and death dates) in it, always mentions him.There is no <br />place in her Bible for "whereabouts unknown."<br /><br />Etheridge Knight<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-idea-of-ancestry/
