Sunday, December 25, 2016

Christmas, 2016



    My daughters went to Idaho with husbands or lovers.
    My son went there too, to look, but came back.
    He urges me now
    To go too and be there,
    To live in the snow, never
    To return or go elsewhere,
    But he lives on a sliver,

    And I hesitate and wait
    For what happens next?  Never
    Having learned to decide quickly
    Whether I truly want something or
    Choose whatever I’m most obliged
    To, given the process and my place.
    He says to go off

    To his sisters, but in a day
    Or two he is out here
    For help with an unexpected
    Need.  Two hundred dollars is
    More than he has on hand.
    I’m not now too far away,
    But might be if I go.

    Susan loved such times of year.
    I’ve remained here with a headache,
    Dim lights, reading nothing
    Of significance.  I’ve wanted
    To fill in gaps in certain
    Theological sets, get a new
    Lens to capture a waning light,

    Keep out the night with
    A few lights, a laptop
    And desktop with the little
    They hold, and if with my headache
    I imagine myself unable perhaps
    Lastingly, it might be time to have
    The shades pulled back for good.

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