Christmas Sonnet 2017

This time of year my mother’s poems are read
out loud — her sonnets meant to celebrate
the season in her own way. Since she’s dead,
the 25th’s now just another date
I get to be reminded she’s not here
to make me feel still wanted, smiled at, hugged.
Other kids shine bright with festive cheer
while I’m the string of lights that’s left unplugged.

Tradition, they would call it — I rejoice
as she’d have done, as is my poor birth’s right:
I twist my song in echo of her voice
on this most silent, this most hollow night.

So yeah, I get what Christmas is all about
— our tree’s not done unless a light’s gone out.

by alicia with an assist by maggie


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