That Last Christmas
by , 01-04-2008 at 10:41 AM (2003 Views)
OK, I have thread out there for comments on this, and some of my thoughts on the writing decisions I made. So check the thread. Just do a search on threads I've started and you'll easily find it. But your comments here would be appreciated too.
That Last Christmas
He coped with one closing Christmas with us.
Graced as a salvation of medicine
Papa returned home after having been
Mended—the surgeons fingering his heart
Like wise men offering pious.
Not fully mended. He needed my hand
To shave, lift out of bed, slide on his trousers.
He tried his best. That’s what life spurs,
His rasping breath, his timorous eyes,
His weight pitched on me to stand.
Mom put out her holiday table twill,
With the poinsettia print. Beneath the tree
The kids appraised the glitzy gifts with glee.
We even drank some wine, though all his meds,
Soothed by singing Santa on the sill.
We mostly talked. His face glowed. He said
Life, pain and all, was pleasant, one complied.
When he smiled it seemed angels were beside
Him. He said he understood our savior’s birth,
Tree lights twinkling green and red.
Brother horsed around, Sis drove a thousand miles;
Mom spread across dish after dish to feast
Into the night. At twelve yearning ceased,
Gifts peeled, he got a pillow for his neck.
He gave the kids twenty dollar bills.
Atoned, that was his last hale holy day.
Then on it was all stations of the cross,
A shrinking heart; the glow curved into gloss.
The winter night rounded into a bellow,
And the star above decayed.



