What will be written
When my headstone is set?
What will be written
When I am gone?
What will be pushed into grains of the granite,
Written in stone?
Who will write the thousands of stories
That still occupy my mind?
Who will put them onto the paper
When I am no more and cannot write?
Who will gather them together again
And force them to go in straight lines,
Holding hands so they make sense,
Or let them run around nilly-willy
And enjoy the free-flow form that results?
What will become of my brain,
That gray mass of creative pumping power
After it ceases to press forth wonder in words
About the world that surrounds?
And all of the ideas that flow at night,
Will they stop in the morning
Because they have found a resting place?
Fiery minds call for the snow
And hope for all to see
The cooling notion that occurs
When one touches the other.
Again – what will be written, more-or-less?
More?
Or
Less?
Or all three?
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Books by Marty
www.amazon.com/author/reep
Marty Reep 