Your tombstone stands among the rest,
Neglected and alone.
Your name and date are chiseled out
On polished, marbled stone.


It reaches out to all who care.
It is too late to mourn.
You did not know that I would come.
You died, and I was born.


Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood, in bone.
Our hearts contract and beat a pulse
Entirely not our own.


Dear one, the place you filled
So many years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.


I wonder how you lived and loved.
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find you here,
And come to visit you.


    ...  Author Unknown