John I. Blair
Something about the winterís dark
I count my Christmas lights by thousands,
Like a multicolored galaxy
Come to rest in my front yard.
According to the warranty
The artificial tree I bought today
(A surrogate for sacrificial
Firs from Canada)
Will last until Iím 90.
For the Christmas meal Iím planning
Two weeks in advance
The issueís not the kind of pie
But how many pies to bring.
My child is grown
But memories persist
Of Christmas with so many toys
He all but vanished in the wrappings.
Why do I do this?
Some need to seek reward
For loss of warmth
And longer nights?
Instead I like to think
It is a time when I allow
Freedom to the generosity of heart
I guard too well the balance of the year.
©2004 John I. Blair
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