The past and future of Aurelius Marcus

Carvoran means nothing now.
The mile castle is gone.
But the lichen remains on the stones
to prove that here stood a man
called Aurelius Marcus
turned to the north where nothing grew
but wind and hairy Picts. He took a piss.

He thought of his wife in bed and smiled,
he would join her soon, she never left his side.
He thought of the plague. It raged in the south.
His soldiers shivered under the moon
played dice, and were lucky
not to know the future,
like all of us. The past

is a different story.
Somewhere in between, Aurelius Marcus
pays a stone carver and reads
through tears and rain the chiselled words:
SHE WAS MY VERY PURE WIFE
WHO LIVED THIRTY THREE YEARS
WITHOUT BLEMISH