Poem Graceland Blue Christmas Poem by Joan Pond


A Graceland Christmas
As Paul held me near,
an artificial tree limb poked me in the back.
Jesus,
I”d be impaled by a pagan symbol
on December twenty-third
and I wouldn”t get to open my gifts.
Then I wondered
if I looked as uncomfortable
as I felt.
My skirt was riding up my legs,
stockings were bunched at my knees.
My blouse was wrinkled
and the limb from the tree
could puncture a lung.
I glanced at our reflection in the window.
Two middle-aged frumps,
clinging to each other.
And as the red lights on the tree flickered,
I knew this would be another blue,
blue,
Christmas.

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