I am the product of the people who wore these features and the people that fell in love with
my nose and cheekbones and inquiring eyes and serious demeanor
These traits have not come from nothing and my face shows the roots in ways that language does not
There’s comfort in knowing that my eyes, my expression, my brow have seen farm work in the sun, war fronts, voyages across the Atlantic
The ocean has reflected off so many eyes my color, my brow has furrowed in the same way as my father’s, my grandmother’s
And those that can only be imagined by looking at the map shown to me in the mirror.
Mary Mehalick is small and strange, hailing from Central Jersey– a place that some argue does not exist. She enjoys music, learning languages, and laughing (a lot). Mary is passionate about managing the jazz/funk band Rugburn and her job handling antique books. This is her first poetry submission. Contact Mary at email@example.com.