Thursday, December 25, 2014


I made acorn squash stuffed with wild rice and mushrooms,
apple pie with the flakiest crust of all time,
 a bottle of good red wine.
I celebrate time with my children,
sorrow that my beloved is away,
treasuring the many small gifts of love
wrapped in newspaper, 
or well used wrapping paper.
tender like the tears that streamed unbidden
when he saw the photos of him and me,
and  me and him spanning his lifetime.
I hugged him and rubbed his back
until the sobbing stopped and I wondered
at how deeply love runs, 
like a river hidden below the
frigid beauty of a glacier.

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