red blue green
white

and weeping with
tinsel tears
of joy

we've made it baby
to easy street and parts
beyond

Father Christmas
red-cheeked and drinking
from his pewter stein

the milk
of human kindness

but was it really better back then
or am I just remembering it
differently

I close my eyes
and I still see those bulbous
Christmas lights

strung along the front
of the house
I want I want

I want
what I can no longer
have

A **** or string
What's the difference

I'm a dummy
Either way

With dribble
On my chin

As i gag
On all of your words

You so rudely
Shoveled

Into my mouth

Hello again
my old friend

just sending you
some yule and Christmas cheer

winter is here

but none of the white stuff
this time

only the steel gray like
our hair

that we pretend is silver
amongst the gold

a metal chain still
swinging

one can only
deduce

it to be freshly
pulled

the room now filled
with soft white light

draw bridge now opened

i'm in  my fifties
and my mind

has never been more
alive

brim-full
of hopes ideas

dreams
and most of all

solutions
to the many puzzles

and riddles
that have long vexed me

Whit Howland © 2021

Stacked three high
with the fourth turned upright

and resting atop
like the star on a Christmas tree

tires

that's what they are
what we are

functional

a part of the wheel a part
of a forward motion

unstoppable
uncontrollable

we celebrate