Thick fir needles

Rough icicles scrape against the hands

 

Of the cold nosed kid

Who ponders the wind

Searches

Winter

For its tiny hopeful splotches

 

If the snow

Like a whipped up cozy blanket

Could make his house a home again

Then angels’ white and silent night

Christmas dreams

 

Memories of red sleighs

And perhaps a few painted things –

 

If he could just resurrect the names of those blasting reindeer

Place Santa’s bells and bag and “Ho Ho Ho HO HO”

Upon her wooden sleigh

Just one more time

Again –

 

In Winter’ barren biting storms

Haunted by lightning flashes of his mother’s face –

He looks high and low for mere

 

Flashes –

Her warming rosy mothering smile

The cold red nose above it in the happy chills of winter

 

Happy, healthy, wholesome winters

Her hot chocolate

Once warmed his winter nose

The chills of happy winters

 

Once young he looks now old and wiser

But his head is always screaming

Searching for her

 

Once Bing Crosby brought her back

Once it was the chocolate fudge,

Once the canning jars in the pantry jarred his memory

Then the Nestles Toll-House cookies

Warmed his heart again

 

Her Candle Christmas vision

Her saintly seasonal smile

His memories heat is melting

The very snowflakes that have warmed his heart

 

His candy cane, still sugar sappy sweet

Its sticky package buried

With the presents and the snow

Of a carefully folded white sheet

Under the Christmas tree –

 

Don’t assume it’s the winter

That makes you strong and full

No, it’s her face,

Buried soft

 

Under the Christmas snow.

 

Donald Standeford

2 thoughts on “Christmas without Her

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