Dear You,

I've been here, waiting
for quite an awful long while
my Christmas tree’s a skeleton
my Mistletoe’s missing the toe
my ugly sweater’s an attractive doily
the eggnog’s mould spores unionized
while I’ve been here, waiting for You

I don't care about composting tree,
missing toe, changeling sweater,
or mould spore solidarity

All I care about is You,
who cannot be
bought packaged bagged sold,
I have not one use for gold
trimmings or fancy paper,
I can live without things
baubles toys trinkets rings

All I need
All I want
for Christmas
is You

Truly Yours,

Me
~

Nathan MacKrith
11/28/17

I see it in her eyes
behind projected cloud-free skies
a storm she adeptly hides
where her real self abides

A place without roof or floor
beyond any window or door
where sunlight’s golden gleam
is not hidden by structure beam

I see it in his eyes
he does not realize
nor care for what’s beyond the cloud
happy in his hollow shroud

Of attainable worthless goals
given in fictitious roles
fulfilling any whimsy or wish
a delightful glucose dish

I see it in my eyes
I long for cloudless skies
where no storms abide
only countless pleasures reside

Where I do not need to be
constrained by the reality
of glass ceilings and halls
barricaded with translucent walls
~
NM
03/30/18