Joe Cottonwood
Redhead
Your great-great grandmother
with posture like steel
steamed to America at age fourteen,
married the coal-haired sailor who asked:
Who set your head on fire?
Who froze the flame?
Her inky-haired daughter, your great grandmother
with steely drive in the Great Depression
worked her way through university
studying ornithology
while raising crow-haired children.
Her youngest son wandered to California,
your grandfather bearded in sable
paired up with a steamy woman of Afro top
back to the land raising crops of illegal vintage,
then to legal vines, stable life.
Their daughter, your brunette mother
of dusky skin and choir voice
home-schooled, then PhD in feminist history
wed to a Jewish song-writing organic farmer
who looks like a smiling porcupine.
But you, dear girl
dear sweet amazing pumpkin
with eyes of steel,
Who set your head on fire?
Who froze the flame?