Days Before Me

I have lost the words
The vowels and verbs
Of my fathers.

Precious sentences
Of hope and desire
Now lie mouldering
Gone
And forgotten.

Phonics of blessing
Are dead in
Days before me.

Breath they summoned
Begging rain upon their fields
Breath used for blessing
Breath saved for desire
Breath stored for welcome
Breath made for gasping the devine
All interred in soil and forgotten.

How came this shallow exchange?

All I've left is a solitary
Lonesome word meaning
Hummingbird.
And in this solitary word
Remains the whole of my grandfathers.

Oh, the loss
The sorrow of
Days before me.