I saw this when I went for a walk to the local church this week

Alice’s Grave

A rusted cross of curlicues

Among lichen-covered stones:

I know your final resting place,

The housing of your bones,

Your name, Alice.

I know the date when you were born

And when you died – no trace

Of husband or children left to mourn.

Who were you, Alice?

Who did you love and who loved you?

I will never know.

I can only surmise

That you lived

And died

Alone.