Poet Genes Poem by Bill Grace

Going through the old photographs
a four years old in Dad's arms -
naked four month old on a lamb's wool blanket -
my sister and I talk of Pop's love of opera
and
the toy closet find
of the inscribed poetry anthology
a trophy presented to Dad in junior high for
winning a poetry memorization contest
these things for a man
who subsequently wrote in concrete, steal, and brick
and claimed an emotion
only when they handed
Jackie the flag.