Ghost Words

The cold grey slabs Lean in sorrow as I ponder the engraving That distant sound of memory Therein that holds the man Albert Browning So young, so young, But still he lived to have a wife Who lies beside Who lived beyond Nurturing offspring in his absence That long since life Did he laugh in sunshine Or cry in pain? Did the bell toll noon Or darkness hide his demise? I look and wonder at this Death and know that one day Soon Someone will reflect at my epitaph