My name is string tying the hawk’s legs red.
My mother’s name is springtime in a land where she wasn’t born red.
My father’s name is pencil markings of the bombs red.
My sister’s name is lovely flower red.
My brother’s name is unstoppable fission red.
My grandmother’s name is sorrow on a soft wind red.
I come from a people known for bootlegging, broken cathedrals, and long voyages across the sea.