Whose life, so memorialized, and then so forgotton? A moss-covered cross upon a lichen-stained pedestal, erected in a clearing of ancient oaks. The overcast sky piering between spindley branches says nothing. The thinning grass utters not a word.
Who could once be so beloved, then remembered no more?
echoes of migrating geese
come and go
for Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Way-stone #writephoto