Better

 I am doing better than I think.

After all its the first Christmas

Without you here.

How can we celebrate?

Be happy, listen to the carols?

They all ring empty, untrue, no peace.

Because there is no piece of you.

We hang the stockings, buy gifts.

It all seems lost, there is nothing

To give, except grief, tears of rain

Instead of snow. Gone, with a lonely 

Wind to blow past, the memories come.

Are they a gift? Re member and share it.

It is too big to carry alone, that is the gift.