winter is hard on a graveyard –
cheap little drugstore trees fallen on their sides,
plastic ornaments with their fake paint, chipped and crushed
once fluffy red bows, shrunk and snapped in two
flowers soaked through the stem by refrozen, angry rain
stones unamused, windblow and tired
the week after Christmas is a really tough sight at a graveyard
and cleaning up the debris
somehow makes it worse
Less Than 1%: Surviving My Stillborn 