The Lonely Bones

RDP Monday: Melancholy

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I stood over the shaded gravestone

and I wondered if

back in 1906

had someone stood here and cried

” Don’t go, wait for me. “

the way my Grandmother had cried over my Grandpa’s grave

and I felt bad for the box of bones beneath my feet

and my heartbroken Grandmother

because I knew then, as I do now

nobody waits for you

in the end.

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