Poems for the holidays
Hi folks,
Here is a solstitial offering:
Solstice
The year has journeyed to its shortest day,
as we have journeyed to the kitchen. In
its warm environment, the day begins –
Judy is making porridge, and a stray
cookie has landed on my plate. About
this time, a bird sings. Rita in her gown
heads for the bathroom. In the busy town
of Boston, you’ll not find an hour without
cars in the street, en route from A to B.
Todd’s learning Spanish; all the older folk
are up, the young sleep on. When I awoke,
the sun was still abed, and now I see
it rising in the East, beyond the park.
These are the holidays. I’ve had my share
of what you might call grooming, and a fair
amount of cookies. They have made their mark.
22.xii.2017
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