The Ancestors Far from the otter rocking ocean that murmurs like a sea turtle's heart he wanders a waterless prairie. A schooner pitches on the dark Atlantic the men, women and children below have not eaten for days. Across the empty distance his grandfather a sturdy bur oak disappears as he approaches. Heavy winds lift the vessel--it flies-- the rigging sings with angels the ancient timbers moan. Cherokee ponies gallop toward the foam flecked sea-- his mouth fills with the dust of moth wings still beating. At last he slips from this life, and those who love him and left him behind guide the airborne ship. Copyright © Barbara Spring 2001