The hoary faced man at the
front of the bus says
he don't like algebra
(I tend to agree)
He admits he's no mathematician
He don't like geometry
trigonometry
he's no statistician
but he loves fractions
he wants you to know.
He says he's not
going to go there
(where is he going?)
over the Hawthorne Bridge
and across the river
Eyes so young
shouldn't look
so ravaged
There are Christmas
lights and ornaments
and sadness
tinsel sadness hanging
from their eyes...
They shouldn't have
such sad eyes at
seven and
eight
and nine
Fingers so tiny
shouldn't have
to grasp so much
There are manger sets
and whole villages
and missing her
They shouldn't have
to worry about
solemnity at
seven and
eight
and nine
Ears so young
shouldn't have to
go without her
Merry Christmases
Happy Birthdays
and Sweet Darlins
They shouldn't have
to have
such quiet at
seven and
eight
and nine
Christmas and
snow cream...
ornaments made
with fabric
swatches
sequins, too...
Christmas and
mistletoe...
villages with
twinkling lights
sleep unaware
that you are gone
Christmas in
Texas
crusted brown
grass and a leaning
fence twisted
in figure 8s from the wind
Christmas and
the story
we will be reading
without you
the birth of a
savior sun king
old rituals infused
with the new
Christmas
Merry Christmas, momma...