We celebrate starlorn season
and imagine it will always be
the way of traditional reason.
A quiet comfort finds me
hanging handmade ornaments
on lisolia of worn Christmas tree.
Can’t ignore niggling etherness
of family Christmas gathering;
another empty place at meal.
Alpert trumpets carols on CD
which triggers sharp heartspur
as one of Dad’s favorites on key.
Once our parents leave home,
we become orphans in the world;
itchy heartmoor destined to roam.
Sleepy grandchild’s goodbye hug
and door closes in aftergloom of
wrapping paper and crumbs on rug.
Linda Lee Lyberg introduces dVerse poets to The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig…you may need it to figure out the words in this poem.
a poem in my pocket 
Dec 16, 2021 @ 12:58:34
It always comes as a surprise when we are the elders when our parents have left. One day your children will say the same…
Dec 16, 2021 @ 17:15:21
As generations pass, what legacy do we leave?
Dec 16, 2021 @ 11:40:17
You have painted it perfectly here, Lynn.
Dec 16, 2021 @ 17:15:52
Thank you very much!
Dec 16, 2021 @ 07:18:08
This is so nostalgic and poignant- love the Herb Alpert reference.
Dec 16, 2021 @ 09:59:24
Glad you like that detail, Linda.
Dec 16, 2021 @ 00:44:52
An interesting blend of old and new; present and past and the nostalgia that bonds with it
Much💟love
Dec 16, 2021 @ 09:58:18
Thanks, Gillena 🙂
Dec 15, 2021 @ 21:14:52
You got it spot on! 😀
Dec 15, 2021 @ 21:39:36
I appreciate your saying so, Carol!
Dec 15, 2021 @ 19:41:40
Lynn, that last stanza really got to me.
Dec 15, 2021 @ 20:31:40
Thanks for reading my Christmas collage 🙂
Dec 15, 2021 @ 22:02:09
My pleasure, Lynn. I bet you are a wonderful grandma ❤
Dec 16, 2021 @ 09:57:22
Well, my grandkids are pretty wonderful 🙂
Dec 15, 2021 @ 19:35:44
This is so lovely, Lynn, weaving threads of Christmas past and future in the now.
Pax,
Dora
Dec 15, 2021 @ 20:32:13
Thank you, Dora. Peace to you as well.