Remnants of My Father
written by: Duane L Herrmann
A photo here or there –
few film clips –
bits of memory –
some toys which
we only knew of later;
one farm building left –
all equipment gone,
some changes to the land
are seen, but others
now over grown.
The real remnants we
don’t realize, are us:
his children, walking
with DNA he carried
and passed on,
as we, too, have done,
and the name –
the family name.
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