When the cemetery sales rep
informed me my father wouldn’t be 
buried in the dirt, but rather 
laid to rest in a one-ton precast lawn crypt
reinforced with steel rebar
and positioned under the sod
to ensure hillside integrity 
and prevent grave subsidence,
I was initially dismayed.
How will the earth take him in,
offer him comfort, welcome him home, 
I wanted to know, when his remains 
are sequestered behind such thick 
and heavy walls? I thought about asking, 
but something in the way she held 
her clipboard and pursed her lips 
told me I should just let it go. 
Oh, I finally said, consoling myself 
with the knowledge that in time 
all things crumble, even concrete vaults.