Kudzu Poetry Prize Winner

Suddenly Ancestors

Laurie A. MacKellar

Welcome! Come on in,

enter this store with the creaking floor. Just walk on past

Depression glass, gloves and glittering

wedding dresses, beaded purses, hats

with veils. Proceed past

the black cast-iron pots and trivets, iron skillets,

near the rare Fiesta ware. You will find them underneath

comic books, cookbooks, postcards, greeting card,

unwanted ancient photos, framed and labeled

instant ancestors. Hang them

on your wall and instantly they bake

the bread your great-grandfather ate,

build your great-grand uncle’s coffin,

bury the baby who died from a fever.

Perhaps you’d prefer this woman -

she’ll keep the farm going, six children still growing,

their father a victim,

consumption contracted in a Confederate prison.

I would recommend

that you choose this couple.

She’ll nurse an elderly female forebear,

and he’ll break up the farm after her death,

selling the items one by one at an auction

haunted by antique dealers

hunting for photos.

Laurie A. MacKellar is a librarian at Elizabethtown Community and Technical College and serves on the editorial board of The Heartland Review. Her work has appeared in Kudzu and Pegasus.