Dust

Tell me what to write
besides these morbid notes.
I'm engulfed in death
and my pen remains still.
Record after record,
but who will remember
Grace and Hans?
Vic and Paul?

It seems a worthless task
for they've been gone
four decades past—near five.
Ancestry remains empty
and yet all these records remain.
They acquire their dust,
as my pen and my parchment.
Still as death.