The letters carved into granite take far longer to fade
than the memories of the people who carve them.
Gone from our knowledge is wife and mother,
cherished son, devoted daughter.
She was almost certainly a wife and mother,
but that says so little. Was he cherished?
Was she devoted?
So the stones would have us believe,
unlike the internet, what is carved
seems to carry some weight.
I would prefer you write my epitaph in sand.
Or maybe tromp it out in fresh fallen snow.
All I hope is that you remember me,
but let the memory purify in the sun and wind,
until only the finest essence remains -
a one line description etched
in the only medium that matters.
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