Dear Ancestor

Our blood contracts and beets 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.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot, And come and visit you.

Your tombstone stands
among the rest:
Neglected and alone,
the name and date are chisled 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.

Author Unknown

This many years will go by before I learn html right.