“Decembers”
a poem for Christmas
in memory of my brother, Tommy (1943-2018)
Snow would wiggle
beneath our streetlights
when each December
seemed a miracle. I loved
snapping the kitchen shade
to find Albert Street icing
white. I loved hurrying
my homework to walk
with my brothers and our dog
across the NJ Turnpike overpass
where miles of brake lights
and jingling tire chains
made us wish for Christmas.
Our collie would grow
a slush beard as our words
turned to steam, then faded
as fast as the foot and paw prints
we’d leave back to our house
that looked like a gift
wrapped in white around
our porch light burning gold
into the streams of falling snow.
from Alone with Love Songs (Grayson Books)
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