Our Ancestor

Our Ancestor

This moss-covered tombstone among so many
Stands neglected, ignored and alone
With name, month, year, and epitaph
Faded, washed-out, and unknown.

This dimly etched stone among so many
Is there and has influenced those of us who care.
Time has now passed, and yet we mourn;
We just know you were put there.

Handed down through you
We received our genes, cells, flesh and bone.
Even our blood and heart beat
Is not necessarily our own.

You’ve occupied this special spot
More than a hundred years.
Sure, you left your loved ones
And no doubt they shed many tears.

We wonder about you--
Ethics, morals, interests, and cares.
Little did you know we’d visit this lonely spot
Where your mossy tombstone among so many causes stares.

Author: Edith Bastin
© Copyright: September 20, 1998. All Rights Reserved.

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