by Glenn Currier
Today we mined a reunion
from our attic,
disturbed the dust,
awakened the boxed.
Sis was there in a little red chair
Mom's star-laced fingers,
faded pink and bygone silver,
and from a year's sleep --
hosts of granny ghosts.
A squashed can sprayed gold,
a cherub face with mouth agape
and flattened bow for wings
that flew friends in from long ago.
Suspended crystal tears
weighed by the years --
Aunt Gena and Uncle Ted
back home from the dead.
And Pop pops in the bubble lights
stamping ho ho ho Christmas Eve nights,
kids giggle, shriek and wait inside.
They're all here --
remembered as lighter
eyes and faces brighter.
Foil of red and green
not from a machine
but cut with cousin hands.
From islands like St. Croix--
crafters and their families
and salt of summer's toil.
Visitors from Utah and Eureka,
sisters uuhing, hahing, and clucking
at purple partridge and pewter duckling.
All around the tree they hang
some tinkle and some clang
the drunks and crazies put in place
against the wall or near the base.
No matter their warts and faults
nor if they two-step, frug, or waltz
nor if they're irate, grave, or sedate,
whether they smile or disagree
all are welcome at our tree.
This reunion assembled each year
brings mostly joy, laughter, and cheer
but just a sprinkle of sadness for those
here only in spirit, sunbeams, and snows.
Posted on 12/13/2002
Copyright © 2021 Glenn Currier
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by David R Spellman on 12/14/02 at 02:33 PM|
A colorful and nostalgic look Glenn. Evokes many similar memories and emotions. Very well done!
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/16/02 at 02:35 AM|
Colorfully fun read Glenn. A little something for all to relate to here despite this poem's personal theme.
|Posted by Mara Meade on 12/17/02 at 02:36 PM|
Oh, the memories of a family at Christmas and the history and stories behind the decorations - you captured it so well in this poem! Thank you!
|Posted by Ken Harnisch on 12/17/02 at 03:11 PM|
Ah, Glenn...i was just unbending my legs and rubbing out the soreness from culling through just such memories...a wonderful, wonderful read!
|Posted by Kate Demeree on 12/17/02 at 03:15 PM|
I love this poem! The colors of the lights on the tree, and memories of past, along with those being created, it is like comming to your house to help decorate the tree *hugs* Wonderful!