A Marker
A sign of what once may be left
Within the hedge line written
Through the dark feeling of weight lifted
A presence of grace to have a place to hide
In stone carved out many names to find
The times of sorrow drifting over veins
As leaves do fall and temperatures will rise
Growth that flourishes may not wither nor die
Time accepting the passing of a goodbye
For moments of inscription that are left for eyes
Upon granite slabs or slate curved and shaped
Squared a surface that is faced flat forward engraved
Measuring the space that is at a limit for a witness
Who? When? About them
Beginning an ending of the life once lived
Name and date it is fate
A cemetery with iron-clad gates lock and key
Graves with more yard above than below
Journeying to where a visit is seen
Markers forever as statues laid to rest
Where we may stand in between
In remembrance
Copyright © Kristina Whitmore | Year Posted 2017
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