Christmas Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Sitting in front of our Christmas tree,
drinking a cup of tea and thinking.
Tears streaming down my face like tinsel
down the tree.
Ever flowing - always knowing - the sadness
lying behind decorations hanging everywhere -
no Mom to share them with.
No Mom here to make it a happy occasion.
Her smile has faded from my sight and lies
sleeping in my mind.
When it is awakened, it brings a new flood of
tears.
How can I go on without ever hearing her voice again?