Visiting her mother

The cemetery was white, flowers and light.
Her mother's coffin was in glass-covered hole in the wall
there were plastic flowers and a dusty picture
Of her mother, before she got old; my wife opened
the door, she is the key carrier in the family and dusted
the coffin, but also placed fresh cut flower
in an empty vase; it was such a beautiful and thought
I wouldn't mind dying here when time was right, to this
my inner voice sarcastically said: is there ever a right time?