I’ve been knocking
On the doors of time,
Taking rubbings
Off pitted rune stones
In grass grown graveyards,
Climbing shyly
Up my family tree
And nodding as I go
To those who cling there,
Hoping they might nod to me,
Sitting up by moonlight
Tracing genealogies,
Endless lists of names,
Dates, places, and events,
Battles, births, and burials,
Asking why I do it,
Wondering how anyone
Could not, since this
Is all about the course
Of how we came to be.
©2012 John I. Blair
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