The ornaments begin to speak,
each in its turn intoning
a memory of Christmas past.
I listen
as a silver bell rings out the joy
of It's a Wonderful Life
and Clarence Odbody
receiving his wings;
I remember
how Grandpa loved that movie
and watched it
every year
on his black and white T.V.
I laugh
as a tiny faux snowman sings Frosty the Snowman
and attempts to dance off of the tree;
I continue to laugh
remembering Grandma's voice
as she sing along with the record
playing on her Victrola.
I cry
as the angel on top of the tree recites
the Christmas story
in a voice resembling
the voices
of my mother
and father combined.
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