A Walk Among the Tombstones

Markers worn by passing time, stand like sentinels in a garden of stones. The names of those who are no more, once starkly chiseled, now vanishing as though carved in butter set to table on a hot summer’s day. The ones who languish here beneath the stones are now forgotten by history and progeny like old paradigms. That they once lived and who they were now sadly seems irrelevant to most, visited only by the few that concern themselves with mundane things such as history and old graveyards.