There I stood

Surrounded by stones of white

Simple, yet so powerful

In the seemingly endless rows

Some so old they are nearly gray,

The newest ones so white they shine.

I find yours, my heart in my throat,

And with shaking hands,

I read the stone.

So stark, simple, but full

Of all you had become.

I sit and I talk to you.

Of old news, and things

I never got a chance to say.

I turn my head,

Through eyes blurred,

I see hundreds of stones,

Thousands, so many,

So young. So new.