places buried in the past
I did not know her
but I was compelled
to find her final resting place
it was a bright but cold december day
but I kept warm in the car
driving mindlessly past corn fields
mile after mile after mile
stripped clean yet ruggedly barren
the interstate traffic was heavy
and I wondered how many seekers
if any
had set off on a journey
to find her final resting place
google maps told me how to get there
but I only had to read the directions once
and when I got there
it was as if I had been there all along
december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
An impromptu haiku
Genealogical hunting for the past
Families seeking, hoping to reconnect across centuries
Sometimes finding an old home.
wonderful poetry my friend
You have this uncanny ability to tell just the right pieces of a story to leave me dying to find out the sections I don’t know.
you do understand me – thank you
excellent
thank you so much, Bonnie
This is beautiful, mystery man. I relate to it but I’m sure your story is much different than mine
Thank you, but I’m still trying to figure out mine.
I suppose it is a process
I agree, it’s what isn’t told that make up the true poetry.
Thank you for visiting on commenting on my poetry again today…will be interesting to see what the new year brings.