In my stir-crazy, snowed-in state, I found some seasonally morbid poetry for you all. Enjoy!
And a tree in the window
Of a funeral home. Very nice,
I say. There are even teased
Wads of white cotton
To make us think of snow,
From the same stash, I suppose,
You plug ears and noses with.
Lord knows what else
You've got waiting for us beyond
The heavy, ornate door.
Santa's beard for grandma
Laid out in her coffin?
A new sled for some little girl
And even a lone snowflake
Freshly fallen on her sleeping cheek?
Merry Christmas Jenn, you gorgeous little darlin`.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jervaise! You as well!
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