Self Commute

I wonder what it would be like to have a removable headstone, to have my own portable waymark for this ever passing world. Stuck in heavy triadic the road slithers slowly forward on my wet surface. I am the traffic I move through. I am driven to a small park. where children are running around in a circle while a stationary adult watches. If I could, I would replant my tombstone there, there in the center of the children, as something for them to turn around. It's not right that they should all be revolving like that, spinning around nothing at all.