A poem I'm not sure if I wrote

I was looking through a notebook of mine the other day, it was the book which I had been using to plan my brother's funeral. The front half at least, I have a bad habit of grabbing the nearest sheet of paper and writing in it regardless of the other contents. This book happened to also have a short play, some random grocery notes, and a page of text that I could not recall writing. Sometimes I write in the middle of the night, barely awake, because of some thought I needed to get out of my head. Sometimes I dream of my brother and I wish his voice was as clear as it is in my head.

I haven't had the two nighttime habits meet I don't think, not until I stumbled upon this passage in my book. Have you ever written something that you never thought before? Words that aren't your own, thoughts projected to someone else, or just the inner workings of the psyche broken free by tiredness. If you have, maybe they look like this.

I wonder

Author uncertain. 

I wonder what made the stars

all come to rest where they are.

Not literally,

I mean,

they are not really resting.

They're moving rather rapidly 

and so are we.

But I do wonder

what would life have been like

millions of years ago.

What did the dinosaurs really act like? 

Birds?

All of them, we've lost so much

and confused so much else 

of the fossil record.

I wonder what would have happened If I had called,

 with a belt in my hand,

my phone in the other.

Who would have picked up? 

In the dark,

lost,

Like so many bones in the ground,

so many stars in the sky.

I wonder what Christmas will be like next year.