headstones in old cemeteries

tell stories in names, dates and epithets

we can conjure but never be sure

loved ones may never die so long

as we live in someone’s memory

but that means “we,”  “I” will disappear

“I” will cease to exist, even in memory

but was I not part of something vast

beyond my comprehension?

was  “I” not merely a trickle in a brook

the merged into a stream  that joined

a mighty river to the sea?