>Dear Ancestor: > Your tombstone stands among the rest; > Neglected and alone > The name and date are chiseled out > On polished, marbled 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 > In flesh, in blood, in bone. > Our blood contracts and beats a pulse > Entirely not our own. > Dear Ancestor, the place you filled > So many years ago > Spreads out among the ones you left > Who would have loved you so. > I wonder if you lived and loved, > I wonder if you knew > That someday I would find this spot, > And come to visit you. > > >