The Winter Cemetery
THE WINTER CEMETERY
Awaken my nightmare!
Cold, wrinkled skin, eye circles beyond care.
Tears of beautiful snow.
O depths to which they go!
A horse and carriage show.
The gate — a cliff of iron bars, mine heir.
The creak of springs, the box —
ornate, carries my frozen heart, on blocks
of ice — my pretty niece.
Oh shroud of snow, I cease
to live - i have no peace!
O that cancerous gong of Winter clocks!
Wrapped in woolen fetters,
I boldly stare at these money-getters.
The doc misdiagnosed,
and the nurse overdosed.
In an icebox — her ghost.
This cemetery shivers with debtors.
She’ll be buried next to
you, beloved son, youth taken by flu.
I lean on the hard chest.
Winter blooms on my breast.
Dear son, I’ll never rest!
Cold stones, for bounty, as my flames accrue.
12/20/2017
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