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Sacred Memory

Piled high upon the ground
stones of life, make no sound
left alone to mark the spot
Keep your space when you cannot

Leave them here to show you came
No need to mark or leave your name
The pile stays for years to come
Someone else may leave you some.

Alone someday you will return
to see the place memories burn
And there they are to your surprise
The sacred stones before your eyes.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry