2016 by Hello World
Who were you and where are you now,
I keep wondering, and looking around.
Looking for signs, mundane and profound,
until I find you, you’ll be my broken bough.
I found a small, wee hint of your writing,
scattered here and scattered there.
With a nom de plum, and a nom de guerre,
as though a whisper with each sighting.
You write of sojourns among the rowan,
in books so rare they are barely found.
Words in folios so old, and so tightly bound,
that the seeds of your mystery are deeply sown.
Who were you and where are you now?
Until I find you, you’ll be my broken bough.
Background: I am a genealogy hobbyist, and I recently
found that a member of my family tree was a published
poet who wrote under the name Diana Skala,
but I have yet to discover what became of her.