Bartholomew Dibble said to Lovina, Will you be my wife?
Lovina said, No, I am the wife of Moses.
Moses said, No, you are not my wife, you are my sister.
Moses’ sister said, I am not your sister, I am your mother.
Moses’ mother said, Get lost!
David Yanson said, I have two lovely daughters.
Humphry Dibble said, I am Humphry Dibble, and this is my sister, Emeline.
Emeline leaned away from Humphry.
Orpha Yanson said, Give me a break.
Humphry said, Okay, and tripped over a rock.
Delia Dibble looked lovingly toward Lovina Yanson, while Lovina Yanson
    for Emeline Dibble.
Humphry was a Dibble.
Dibble was a last name before the mid-nineteenth century.
Epitaph said, Wife of . . ., in curlicue letters.
Epitaph said, Died . . ., in western ombres style letters.
Epitaph said of Elegy that it was monologic.
Bartholomew Dibble said, Life sucks.
The tombstone said, Reader, check this out.
The accidental visitor to the country graveyard said, Writing sucks.
Writing said, Yes, even monuments fade.
The stone that had once been a stone, and had later became a tombstone, and
   then even later became just a stone again, said, Nothing.
Then the tombstone said, Reader, go home.
The deer pooped in the graveyard.
The graveyard said, Now I am a grove.