It was desolate, with a winter cold
we drove the cemetery road
miles past sage brush and cactus
Saw signs pointing toward a ghost town
we turned onto a gravel road
leading to the desert cemetery
an abandoned place, mostly unknown
Many headstones old and eerie
cowboys and ranchers plenty
hazards of the pioneer west
babies, children of homesteaders
laid too young to rest
Hand fashioned crosses
still stood, marking graves
without a word
I thought how
each of us one day
will be forever unknown