The tether is broken; the frayed end

fades into nothingness, detectable only

to great-grandparents, severing me

from those that were the first to come.

·

Records were lost or never made

by those chosing to inter their pasts,

to cherish their second/chance lives.

Were there no offices held,

·

were there no fortunes earned,

no martyred selves, no gloat,

no consuming greed, no illicit loves?

Were lives too sordid or too slight to claim?

·

Were there no poems sung?