Things

To think of the sun, the moon or the trees
            on a December night
It all starts with little things,
just one little thing it seems

Just when I've cleared my mind
      these little things rise up;
to fester and boil in memory

My head aches, with too much of the past
      And the missing of my loved ones.

Decorations by the boxes, remain packed
      and in their sacred cove
Bags of lights to tempt a decorator's eye
Stockings that once graced the mantle,
      still embroidered with names of children
      lay in wait for a child's touch, once again

Here now, the season, it approaches
Tiny lights sparkle in frozen nights of snow
But will I ever sparkle, in this festive time again?

And still,
      my head aches with all these things
            on such a late December night

©CG Mair Xmas 2004