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 to 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, one hunderd years ago.
Spreads out among the ones you left.
I wonder if you lived and loved, I wonder if you knew.
That somday I would find this spot and come to visit you!