Christmas Poem 4

9 December 2025

We return, after being distracted by a number of other projects, all equally important, to share another earlier Christmas post. We had to leap forward several years to find one not previously posted. This poem is a response to a poem posted last week, “Christmas, ca. 1970,” that recounts one of my memories from a childhood Christmas. We also add that the annual Smashwords ebook sale is on now and through the beginning of January.

22 December 2017
Poet’s Corner

Last week we shared a Christmas poem that was memories from childhood Christmas celebrations. This week we share our response to this earlier poem, “Christmas, 2015,” forty-five years, or so, later, and our reflections on this special season. This poem is forthcoming in a collection of our poems titled “Those Two Years.” Here it is, and we wish all a Merry Christmas!

Christmas, 2015

I sit silence ringing in my ears
sharp glow of blue & white LEDs
filling my eyes
pondering
festive tree decorated
plethora of ornaments–all gifts
accumulated over decades
tree of green plastic & wire
shaped
to resemble live fir tree
too expensive in the desert
too dry too quick
indoor fire hazard
replaced
by inflammable steel and plastic.

Outside no blanket of white
desert brown
with infrequent splashes of green
rare winter snow
fell
overnight but no snow
remains
only damp spots on sidewalk driveway roof
no invasive hum & rumble
one & only day
commerce stops.

I am called at 4:00 am
not to deliver
morning Tribune
but pain & stiffness products
of middle-age
force
me to rise early
recollect
Christmases past
as child young adult
parent of small children
now parent of adult children
air no longer charged
excited anticipation
now all know what is waiting
beneath plastic Xmas tree
socks & underwear despised by youth
prized by adults
magic of Christmas–the wonder–
muted
waiting
for another generation
grandchildren we look forward to spoil.

A few days before Christmas
we celebrated
with our surrogate granddaughter
cute little Bella
sitting
between Grammy & Grandpa-man
slowly tearing away
colorful paper
concealing
new book Grammy happily reads
over & over again
book’s main character also named Bella
radiant smile
infectious giggles
spilling the sprinkles
decorating
gingerbread man.

Bella wears us both out
playing
chase & catch me
with her Aunties & Grammy
playing
make-believe puppies
with Grandpa-man
my leg a slide for tiny cloth puppies.

Now we listen to traditional tunes
not played
on Mom’s record player
cracking & popping
as Nat King Cole & Bing Crosby
sing
playing on my Iphone
streaming
digital Christmas songs
velvet voices without static.

No longer do we hear
excited voices top of stairs
waiting
breathless for the signal
camcorder ready to catch first view
plastic tree
empty
previous night now filled
surrounded
gifts left by Santa Claus
now they slowly wake
no hurry
tree of festivities filling
over month it resides
our front living room.

The air is cold–for the desert
for a time
I sit feeling cold
nipping
at my exposed skin
with buzz & crackle
soft pop
heaters flare to life
momentary scent of burning dust
raising the temperature
waking
adult children still sleeping
upstairs bathroom door
snaps
shut water flows
someone above begins
her morning routine.

The wife comes down
dressed & made-up
carrying
final gifts just finished
placed in colorful bags
added
to waiting pile
surrounding
green plastic & wire festival tree.

We still gather we still pray
but now no urgency
to open presents
not like before
when magic still reigned supreme
holding
all in its happy grip
Christmas has come again.