for Steph

a shroud of low clouds
dampens the cemetery’s mood
a chubby stone cherub
sits amidst the mists
his green gold patina
weathering the cycling seasons
throughout the years
bathed in spring’s renewal
April’s showers and morning’s dews
basked in summer’s thermal waves
expanding like the days
chilled in the crisp crackle
of autumn’s change
enduring bitter snows
of frozen white winters
but every Christmas Eve he’s comforted
moved by dance of candles
warmed by heavenly halos’ glow
little cathartic coronas twinkling
like a mother-made indoor constellation
commemoratively flickering on her mantle
in annual visual manifestation
of her lifelong heartstrings
illuminated by the depth of their reach
honoring her child
her little angel
born too soon
and too perfect
for this world