Kolmannskuppe** Poem by Neil Young

That ache, like a nagging tooth, became
Obsessive need to understand your past,
Extract its hidden history.

A surname on your mother's side
Unlocked some German link.Dissolved
By marriage, it wore parts of you

Away.Cautiously, it brought us here
To this abandoned town of ghosts,
Sand ravaged homes and stifling heat.

Staring into buried rooms, it
Seemed the ever moving Namib
Desert dunes were claiming back

The space they took; no care for diamonds,
Miners, wealth or lost Germanic culture.
Our tour guide fed us scraps; what little

We could grasp, like mere statistics, more
A pub quiz source for curious facts
Than any personal history.

In broken African English
We learned to name the diamond field
Sperrgebiet; how sometimes singers,

Flown in to perform an Opera,
Packed out the modest ballroom; how trains
Brought in enough fresh water, kept

Unforgiving desert gardens
Blooming.We could only guess which rooms
Were home to them, your ancestors.

What could pockmarked walls, or doors wedged shut
By feet thick sand drift possibly recall?
Who said dust grows no thicker over time?

Stepping into glaring sun again
We found few answers; our cameras
Brought it home, closer, but no clearer.