Speculum

Yes, I am heir, the only
      heir of my parents, both 
deceased. I may not have 
      copies of their marriage 
or death certificates but 
      look, there are their names, 
plain as anything, on my birth 
      record. Original paper. Thin
as onion skin. Perforated 
      in a few places by the bang
of typewriter keys. A clerk in some
      nondescript office. A hospital
in a military fort. The antiseptic
      smells mixed with the familiar
aura of ancient stones. I hold
      this moment open so I might see
who wheels me in my bassinet 
      into a room washed with equal
parts oath and allegiance.