A lovely poem I wish I'd written.

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.

Source: Poetry (December 2000).