Drive by cemeteries! I love it!! Resteeming

You made me think of this poem.

No Time
BY BILLY COLLINS
In a rush this weekday morning,
I tap the horn as I speed past the cemetery
where my parents are buried
side by side beneath a slab of smooth granite.

Then, all day, I think of him rising up
to give me that look
of knowing disapproval
while my mother calmly tells him to lie back down.