The Matriarch

With its roots deeply planted

Securely situated in the silent, thick fog of the Bay

Curiously, I climb the branches

Some withering and wilting as they endure gusts of wind and rain

Others just beginning to sprout

Thriving as they soak in the sun’s rays

With each grasp, up I go

Weaving and winding

Encountering the familiar faces

The blue eyes, strong nose, and curly hair of my relatives

Some are tired from the time they have given to their children, their husbands, their neighbors, and the dinner table

Others’ sacrifices and endurance gift to me encouragement as I move forward

Away from the ground of adolescence

At the base, my mother is positioned, beautiful, wise, awake all the time

The leaves then space

To a dad lost in Arkansas

Swaying with the breeze is my sister

But I must again step over the emptiness of a brother who's a stranger living on the Canadian border

With a grandmother

And a grandfather who sometimes forgets with whom he is talking

With my great aunt’s husband and cousin Rose’s dad gone from this Earth

With my great grandmother, who lived lived for over a century

Only partially accompanied by her husband

With an aunt

And an uncle, resting above as angels' songs permeate the air

I cannot see the top of this never ending tree

Forever, I have noticed that the greens from which I grow

lack the men that embellish the other trees in the orchard

The matriarch, however, is not so different

The gaps are hardly noticeable

Ties are no match to prada heels

Takeout stands no ground against her delectable mashed potatoes and warm beef stew

Her stretch marks

And heavy eyes that rarely drip, but always glimmer

Are a symbol of the long car rides to school,

Work,

Soccer,

Meetings,

And the grocery store

A reminder that her grace is not effortless

Woman, after woman, after woman

This tree feels never ending

But these life givers,

These wise, well-educated sages

Fearless warrioresses

Repeat as I climb unaccompanied, forming my destiny,

You are worthy

Of life

Of Love

In every offshoot of your life

You will blossom

They are my source of strength

Of self-empowerment

Of joy

This great tree

This great matriarch

Cate Hewitt, 2024

Poetry