Anna

Simply Anna,
Carved upon a marble stone,
The solitary testiment of a life,
Now lichen covered and wind blown.

The dates have been worn away
By summer sun and winter chill,
Not a word is left to tell about,
How she came to rest upon this hill.

Time has coroded the memory,
Of when she was alive and gay,
And though I wish it could tell me more,
"Anna" is all the stone can say.