You married him, the missing one,
from our family in 1881.

And when I stood where you once stood,
perhaps where you and he worked there side by side

Under hot sun on land that runs
along the White River floodplains I felt it—

That kinship I had always known.
I wish I could have met you and understood

What wisdom you knew and what
happened there between you. Now I can hear you

Singing softly to yourself, or
is it me the song is for? I do adore

Its haunting harmony. I will
come to walk land you walked one day very soon.

You can trust me with your secrets
for, in spite of all they say of you, I do

Know we are kin—even when
I do not know to whose bloodline I belong.

Laura, this I know for certain:
You lived. You loved. And we hold much in common.