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Christmas Farewell
Morning. Nothing more important to do today
than walk the dog, eat breakfast, drive into town,
buy mouse traps. Weather’s gray again,
temperature’s dropping.
On the other side of the ocean, old friends are
struggling in their last embraces. Reluctant
to leave, they whisper quietly from hospitals
and curtained bedrooms. Families gather round
tending, comforting.
The telephone just whistled. Photos of the
grandchildren arrive, smiling and mischievous.
soon there’ll be more on the way.
The weeping willow that once stood green at the
end of our garden has long since become only a
memory to b viewed in photo albums. In its place
stand fruit trees; apricot, plum, pear and a walnut
under which we discovered yesterday ten wrinkled
brown gifts. Christmas will soon be upon us again
as it has arrived caroling and ambivalent through
half a century of frost bitten winters.
Drive carefully we say as guests go out to their cars.
© Johnmichael Simon
2016
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