On Christmas evening
Sitting in shattered silence
Among the gray remains
Of a vibrant, happy, home
Longing for that bygone joy.
~
Bitter is the bite,
The pungent, ashen, odor
Clouding memories.
~
Is there some small thing,
A word, phrase, a memory,
Some hopeful spark
To rekindle lost color,
Illuminate this dolor?
Aroil in Pain 