The dead decay—unable to move—
stacks of letters forever left unread.
Stones don’t wither but flowers do 

the old man thinks in his empty room.
He is his last remaining friend.
The dead decay—unable to move.

These Jewish traditions hold true—
placing stones on graves of the dead.
Stones don’t wither but flowers do. 

Will these neglected letters bruise?
He can’t bear read what they said.
The dead decay—unable to move,

but do they have essence left to use?
Do they thrive in paper instead?
Stones don’t wither but flowers do. 

He asks over each friend’s tomb:
How can he cope with final dread?
The dead decay—unable to move.
Stones don’t wither but flowers do.

Matthew Feinstein is a twenty-two-year-old neurodivergent writer from Tracy California. He will attend the MFA program in Poetry at California State University, Long Beach in Fall 2020. His poetry and fiction have appeared or are forthcoming in Macqueen's Quinterly, Cathexis Northwest Press, Running Wild Press, Rejection Letters, and elsewhere. He recently tried Past Life Regression Therapy and often thinks of his beloved son from 1830’s Shanghai, China. You can follow him on twitter @MatthewFeinste5.