The day will come when I retire
From my earthly shell and all I’ve acquired.
They’ll lay me low in the ground to be
Forever under dirt and tree.
They’ll sit and talk and maybe cry.
They’ll stare and leave and bid me bye.
They’ll think of times they knew me here.
Of joy we shared, of grief and cheer.
Of things I said and things I wrote.
Of song and smile and book and boat.
They’ll remember a house I called my own.
A dog I loved, and folks I’d known.
While I lay in my deep death bed
They’ll think of things that went unsaid.
One day they’ll think back on the day
When death and pain seemed far away.
When sun shone bright and smiles shone wide.
When we all walked with youthful stride.
But what of that will still be shown
Beneath that cold and lonely stone?
What will remain of thoughts as these?
Untouchable, cloudy memories.
No record of the laughs and smiles.
No lessons from the toils and trials.
They’ll walk with hands drawn to their chest,
And leave my body there to rest.
They’ll wander back from time to time
To leave a flower or a rhyme.
To tell me of the things I missed.
To think of old times, reminisce.
They’ll talk to this old garden stone.
And tell me how my kids have grown.
They’ll leave and think of things to come.
Of places to go and errands to run.
They’ll go back home and read a book.
They’ll clean their hands and start to cook.
They’ll eat a meal with their family.
They’ll laugh and smile and watch TV.
They’ll clean their plate and pause to say
“I stopped by Brandon’s grave today.”
