He sat there, alone
'Neath the tree for shade
Pondering the cold stone
Atop where she laid.
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A couple weeks ago, I drove to the doctor's office. Along the route, there's a large cemetary. Some plots skirt the outer perimeter of the property along a very busy street -- my route. As I sped by, I quick glimpse of this haunting, lasting, and - as I see it - sweet, image has not left me.
I immediately wrote this little poem.
I hope I have a visitor or two some day bring a folding chair and sit at my grave. I pray I have such a legacy.
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