but such is life

plastic flowers turned acidic waves crash through the graveyard and its inhabitants.
the harsh wind strips warmth from all, and only black ice infringes.
my soft eyes open to the bitter agent of chill,
evoking muddy tears that confuse my demeanor.
and me.
i remember, with unstable steps, my familiarizing days with the graveyard.
i pass the great window slowly, baffled as to why the dead are intentionally made visible to the living.
how i wish i were a manatee.
able to dispose of the dead to the depths,
never again being forced to remember
that all things die, that i have died several times, and will continue to die.
but i am a manatee in human form.
large and imposing,
small and shadowed,
exploring the deplorable burial grounds.
looked upon as a freak by the surrounding brightly colored fish.