Christmas is delicious,
the most fun
for little ones,
but if you’re older,
a gray-haired householder,
to ease aches and pains
so that you can remain
in the mainstream
even in weather extreme,
the sound of a choir
will in you inspire
intimations of heaven’s joy,
especially if it’s your boy’s boy.
his young soprano skimming along
on top of an old Christmas song
with melodious allelulias,
while your voice cracks like Methusalah’s.
If the little ones are far away,
you share by phone their holiday.
Gleeful children up at dawn,
older ones greet noon with a yawn,
the novelty for them has worn off,
but even though they may frown and scoff
at the younger children
you know they still have a yen
to be surprised with some nice present,
faces lighting up at the sight of contents.
If you go for a walk on Christmas day.
though it’s cold out, gloomy, and gray,
the fragrance of roasting turkey
may incite thoughts of gluttony
as it permeates the air,
promising feasts everywhere.
I’m thankful that we have each other,
even at a distance we feel together.
This lovely day has shared its spirit
forever, its magic exquisite.