Thomas, Roberts, Baker
Goodman, good men
I’m sure they all were.
But no man,
No saint or sinner
Can escape this quiet place.

Colossal wooden tombstone
Still aches though she died years ago,
Died years ago, and died alone.
Swelling roots the only sign
Her life on earth not carved in stone
Her story lost, like many here.

As time goes on the air gets cold
until only one marks
the dusty walkway.
They said this is what happens
when you get older
but you didn’t believe
until that fateful day.