I’ll Never Know Them
I sit at the computer for hours
My ancestors whispering from their graves.
I see two who died together of Spanish Flu;
A queen of France, a Danish king;
The bastard son of William I of Normandy
(Yes, that conquering hero who
never acknowledged his own son).
I see Puritans, Mormons, miners, preachers
Salt of the earth people, good people, I’m sure
People I wish I knew.
But, for now at least,
All I can do is guess at their stories
Make up their stories
Write down their stories.
I’ll never know them
Except in my own body where they all live
And where they whisper to me.