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by Fyn Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2176408
For the cup
Theme: Something, anything to do with a particular Christmas.
No restrictions - just make it real. And at least 20 lines long.



Christmas Prensent (Past)

Half-way 'round the world from anything, anyone familiar--
alone (except for month-old daughter)--
we'd both been abandoned.
Broke and broken.
Scoutmaster gave me the last tree in the lot.
Pitiful thing, scrawny with broken branches;
I didn't have a stand,
so it leaned in the corner.

Neighbor gave me an extra string of lights
stuck on marquee red flash.
Paper napkins made flimsy snowflakes,
setting off the one ornament
for newborn girl.

Christmas box from home wouldn't
be there in time. Two stockings
empty but for an orange in the toe.

I sang carols to my daughter
who slept-- blissfully unaware
of the disaster her first Christmas would be.
I cried that night,
flung unfulfilled wishes
at the tree. I cried
until I was empty,
then cried more about
pathetic trees, being alone,
feeling hopeless, helpless.

Fell asleep on the threadbare rug
in front of the tree and dreamed
Santa came and fixed everything.

I woke to church bells, my daughter
watching flashing lights. Diaper change,
bottle of warm formula and she was content.
She didn't care about any of the things
I was so unhappy about. She had everything
she needed.

Christmas morning epiphany
unwrapped:
so did I.


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