Rik George writes

Remembrance Sixteen
 

The dead, men say, shall tell no tales. 

Their histories are all complete

Written down by angels and put 

On shelves near Heaven’s judgment scales.

Does some jury of seraphim 

Review the stories written there

Lest falsehoods the true records impair 

And expose the angelic host to shame?

Or do the angels write things down 

With fiery quills on pristine sheets

Split from marble?  Do they take notes 

So every stroke is rightly done?

Or do the angels stand amazed 

As humans ramble through their times,

Their petty couplings, their paradigms 

Of right and wrong, their squabbling ways?

Who knows what angels do for fun? 

Or are they ever solemn folk

Who pass their time in sober talk 

About what God has lately done?
 
 Holy Cross Cemetery, Menlo Park, California