My father looked like Sun Yat Sen
My sister like Rosie Perez
My mother’s father had bright blue eyes
My own are like brandy from Jerez.
I once had nappy, tight brown curls
Before I grew old and arthritic
My children don’t look much like me
Their visage is frankly Semitic.
All colors and races infuse in our veins
Our skin cannot quite tell the story
But we feel like rays in a prism
Refracting God’s own glory.