Azure, Aqua, Ancestry

There is a blue of ocean, blue of skies

overbright as memory, everything folds in

over the long day, scratches after too much sun.

Blue of my grandma's eyes in me:

how quick they water in the sun.

How I disappointed her, time and again.

Queen Elizabeth II shares those pale eyes,

old ways of seeing bleached-out tradition.

Blood is never blue, even under the skin.

If I look across the water, the ocean rattles back

sapphires and topaz, the sky's cirrus blown

a loose blue chiffon above the waves.