Kenneth Fordham Poet I do not know?

Do You Know, What I Know, No?

I flipped a cigarette into the well,
Then an explosion came from hell.
You think I jest, how could this be?
I must be distressed, in my own company.
In my own company?
You mean I am alone?
If so who are all those around me,
Who made my tombstone?
In each life there is also death,
But in death there is also life,
For nothing is ever wasted.
The unknown is unsewn,
But is all around my headstone.
Someday I will know,
All there is to know, 
But on that day,
I will be no more.

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