Sitting cross-legged at your site,
dreadfully admiring the grass clumps
growing disrespectfully over your plot,
as if time forgot to stop for you.
Your neighbors are encroaching closer,
becoming a sea of graves,
You’re blending in with the rest.
Crickets and birds keep chirping
while the excavator cuts through
my thoughts digging new plots.
Time and life just keep progressing
But without you, I’ve stopped.