Winter Death

The quiet dark night was blanketed with the
soft white touches of winter.
Moms cold mattress stained with death
void of warmth of her flesh,
now discarded to the curb where dogs pee.
A day and a night ago you existed for me,
I held your hand as you sipped tea.
A single dim lamp barely illuminated the tearful clown poster you loved.
We emptied the small clean apartment as if you never lived there, everything is gone.
Silence, nothingness, bare, lifeless,
all you left is memories and tears.