Imitating Betsy Sholl

**this is not my original work, it is an imitation of Betsy Sholl's poem Genealogy. My version is a writing practice I did in my Creative Writing class. I really like how it turned out, probably because it is 95% not mine**

One of my parents was a tornado, the other a deadly freeze

One was a puppet master, the other a king

In the night I would wake to a song and the faint smell of after-shave

The instructions tattooed on my lower back are for the bird who does not wait for the worm

One of my parents was a bull tinkering quietly, the other a word I carried in my mouth convinced it spelled love

One of my parents I drank, the other I dreamed

In the revolving door of my becoming,

One tore from within and one mended from without

Thus my troubled birth, my endless doubt

One was a wound, the other a stitch

How they amused each other

One was a dragon, the other a knight

I was a ashamed my belly lacked fire, embarrassed I couldn't bare a sword

I was a child calling across the heavens to a God

They didn't know