Dear Ancestor
Your tombstone stands among the rest, neglected and alone.
The name and dates have worn off the weathered marble stone.
It reaches out to all who care.
It's now too late to mourn.
You did not know that I'd exist, you died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you, in flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our hearts contract and beat a pulse entirely not our own.
Dear ancestor, the place you filled some hundred years ago spreads out among the ones you left who would have loved you so.
I wonder how you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew that someday I would find this place and come and visit you.

Author anonymous

Dear Ancestor
Your tombstone stands among the rest, neglected and alone.
The name and dates have worn off the weathered marble stone.
It reaches out to all who care.
It's now too late to mourn.
You did not know that I'd exist, you died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you, in flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our hearts contract and beat a pulse entirely not our own.
Dear ancestor, the place you filled some hundred years ago spreads out among the ones you left who would have loved you so.
I wonder how you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew that someday I would find this place and come and visit you.

Author anonymous