We’re long past racing downstairs
Christmas mornings breathless
for surprises under evergreen branches,
and our stockings now are the support kind
to hold things together south of our knees.
Michael Bublé may sing “White Christmas”
instead of Bing, and Amazon.com
may replace Woolworths on Black Fridays,
but we’ve moved on to richer gifts
of spouses and children, our own homes
glowing in holiday lights of December.
And over the now many miles of age
we still hold close the love of friends,
those we meet for coffee and conversation,
who check in with texts and morning emails,
those with whom our hearts have a history,
who make every day of every season
the most wonderful time of the year.
Edwin Romand, yourdailypoem.com December 25, 2021
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