December Fog (poem)

A thick fog covers the city,
brought by a frozen rain never fallen.
from the cemetery on the hill, I look out
at buildings erected, tombstones for the living.

No matter how much we dress them up,
decorate them with wreaths and Christmas lights,
still they’ll be monuments to what we’ve lost:
friends and family, faded or buried.

In this thick December fog, I wander,
floating between now and then,
a ghost haunting the memories illuminated
by the fading lights of the last Christmas.

-Zero