I live in a room that is straight and bare,
With rings on my fingers and thorns in my hair
And I hear all night against my door
The pounding hands of the days before.
Tag: Stanton
Hannah Ann
It seems fitting that, to properly begin sharing about my personal family history in this space, I must start with Hannah. From her I can work forwards and backwards in my maternal line as I share more individual stories, but in my mind, it all begins with her, the pebble tossed in the pond of my mind and heart as a small child, and from which the ripples expand.