THINKING ABOUT GRANDMOTHER ON THE WAY TO THE FUNERAL.

Thinking About Grandmother On the Way to the Funeral

The car is stifling with heat. 

I hear the noise of its engine roaring.

An airplane flies over head, spewing

Carbon dioxide.  I am not settled.

The mood in the car is bitter,

Because we have to attend a funeral

For our grandmother,

Who died while kayaking on a river.

Sometimes I think I wish life would go

Faster than the blink of an eye,

But sometimes it goes slow as a

Merry go round, spinning, constantly spinning,

And everything is spinning around it.

I am not fascinated by death,

But I wonder what death would be like.

Some things are shrouded in doubt,

While others are not,

And each and everything in particular

Is random,

Thrown about in the dark. 

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if

We survived death,

Or nothing would happen at all,

Or our souls would be crushed at the end of time,

Or we went to Heaven, which sounds better.

My grandmother’s funeral is in a half an hour,

And I have eaten most of the pie.