“I wish we had kissed longer”
was on the headstone she passed weekly
as she went to pay her own respects.
No companion adjoining, the lone feminine
grave marked only by the sweet declaration.
Who knew if it was being said
to her, or from her, or about her, it was sad
nevertheless. Two people who might
have forgotten the meaningful things
now suffer through the winters - one
walking alone. Indelibly imprinted
and permanent, and public,
the monument stands as a warning to all;
don’t let this happen to you.
- by Tobi Cogswell