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 Your tombstone stands amongst the rest neglected and alone.
The name and date are chiseled
out
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on polished, marble stone.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I exist
You died and I was born
Yet each of us are cells of you
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In flesh, in blood, in bone
Our blood contracts and beats a pulse Entirely not our own.
Dear Ancestor, the
place you filled
One hundred years ago
Spreads out among the ones you
left
Who would have loved you so. |
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I wonder if you lived and
loved,
I wonder if you knew That someday I would find this spot, And come to visit you.
Anon |
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 Grandma with the 2 newest twigs |
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