Graveside tumbleweed blew
In the stones –
Of a thousand years
Yet to come –
 
Primitive, their sculpture
Just as these –
Still a stymied mosaic
Just as we –

Hallowed stone stood
Well-weathered, calm –
Sphinx-like the mass
Here and now –

Graveside tumbleweed ceased
The stones stayed –
Of a thousand years
Yet to come –

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