1891

My great-grandfather was born in 1891

a first-generation American

to Scandinavian farmers in Wisconsin

and thousands of miles away

in Washington, the house I now live in

was built in the same year

Recently his wallet was mailed to this house

with its contents intact:

an identification card with no photo

listing his wife for emergency contact;

small cursive words tell me

that between registering for the draft

and renewing his driving license

his brown hair went gray

The leather and thread, tri-folded,

has held its shape and done its job

much like the floors underneath my feet

nailed by strong hands and burnished with oil

passed from one steward to the next

I think about physical labor 

whole bodies raising barns

whole bodies birthing babies

whole bodies living out lives

thousands of miles away

hundreds of years apart

and how they build on the same earth

and are buried under the same soil