Goldie. She must have been their light. Her parents' graves were right next to her's. When your Daddy or I die, whoever is the first, one of us will have you placed in our arms before the coffin is closed. We will stay with you.
Two children, I don't know if they were twins or not. Crumbled words.
These doves speak of peace without words. The moss speaks of time without life. I don't believe that there can be nothing.
I have seen this stone more than once. I have wondered why her's is so clear looking, it looks protected and tended, while others seem to have been forgotten.
Two one year olds from different years. At the top, above the dove it reads, "Darlings"
Four little ones all the same family, all different ages, all different years, I believe all girls. All gone. There are so many. Next spring, I will remember to bring flowers, the little stones haven't seen soft life for so long. I will bring petals and whisper your name. So many babies, are there enough Angels to hold all of you?