Christmas

Christmas Come Early

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the tears disappear
as we light the fire
and with Amaretto in my belly
and Christmas music
dancing its way across the room,
they talk us into
Christmas come early.

it is only a few hours, really,
and the daylight
would steal the mood
we have set from years past.

ten minutes later,
the few gifts are opened,
and three little girls
play dress-up,
performing their
latest dance songs
for the video camera.

this is as small and simple
as i would ever like it to be:
the Scotch pine,
the warm fire,
the relishing of items
shared by all,
the love of what is here
and what is not here
all in the same moment.

Christmastime Glitter

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it could be the lights
twinkling like miniatures stars
or the people walking
hand in hand,
or the horses’ hooves
that sparkle
in Christmastime glitter

or it could be
the three little girls
in footed pajamas
covered in heavy coats,
fleecy hats, and snow boots,
drawing attention
from passersby
about our new fashion trend.

it could be the
fresh baked zucchini cake
with sprinkly cream cheese frosting,
the hot eggnog latte,
the grasshopper chocolate,
that ride down into our stomachs
on a warm sled of delectability.

whatever it is,
the lights, the girls, the food,
it is home, city, love.

Cold

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the cold has set in
marching our hands to our mouths
our breath escaping
into the Christmas-lit night
as if carried by ghosts.

i listen to my favorite song
by Jakob Dylan,
summer on my mind.
if it refuses to snow
then i refuse to accept
that winter is only days away.

the cold has set in
creeping into my skin
reminding me
of the darkness behind the light
the hollow hiding behind this night.

Enough

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two months and half a day later
we have three grocery sacks
filled with homemade breads,
a peach box filled with apple butter jars,
miniature bags of homemade candy
and an early Christmas gift
for everyone we know.

it could be more, it could be less.
sometimes i wonder if it will ever be enough.

Christmas Morning

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it is what it is
whether you accept it or believe it
(me, neither)
a consumer’s holiday
propped up
with bells and music
church visits
and nativity scenes.
we lie to them
from birth.

somehow,
with enough eggnog amaretto
and song after song
gift after gift
we buy into
this charade,
inundating another generation
of false generosity.

Thanksgiving’s over.
Let’s shed ourselves
of the one truly American holiday
and head to the mall
where we can be
the sickening
self-absorbed
Americans we have all come
to love, come
Christmas morning.