An Excerpt from the Book

If your mother’s mother’s, ten times mother
          tenderly plaited her toddler’s curls,
          it was with your hand.
You picked that sun ripened berry,
          she tasted the sweetness on your tongue.
Two eyes times hundreds, times hundreds
          have looked for the moon’s dappled lake reflection.
Laughter chorusing over miles and generations.
Sharing secrets, pain, joy, bloodlines
          in one kaleidoscopic spirit.
Your mother’s mother’s, ten times mother’s precious legacy.