CHRISTMAS
CARDS
First the bright-grinned
kids,
Boys in red
sweaters,
News of
promotions.
Soon enough the
grandchildren,
All lined up by the
tree,
Tallest to
shortest.
Then later a snapshot, no
message,
A man our age with a new,
younger wife.
And now today a note, no
picture,
In the hand of a woman we
do not know:
They got it all, the
surgeon says;
Expecting him home for
Christmas.
THE VEGETABLE
SLICER
Caught up short late one
December,
I bought a vegetable
slicer,
Garishly hawked at a
shopping mall in Arlington:
You want julienne strips?
Watch this!
I found out later she had
cried on Christmas morning.
Duty required packing it
up when we sold that house,
But not the next
one.
This was forty years
ago.
Regretted presents pile up
at the curbside;
Love persists, moves
on.
DECEMBER 7,
2003
The post office flag is at
half staff;
For a moment I can’t think
why.
For us, this was my
father’s birthday;
(In a child’s memory, only
a radio, speaking darkly).
He would be one hundred
today.
We fix Christmas wreaths
for the cemetery,
Something my mother had
done.
I bind greenery to metal
frame
And wonder idly how much
more
Floral wire I’m apt
to need.
“Christmas Cards” appeared in A Little Poetry, Spring-Summer 2007;
“The Vegetable Slicer: appeared in Poet’s
Ink, March 2008; "December 7, 2003” appeared in Thorny Locust, December
2006
Robert
Demaree is the author of three book-length collections of poems, including After Labor Day, published in April 2014
by Beech
River Books. In 2013 his poems received first place in
competitions sponsored by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire and the Burlington Writers Club He is a retired
school administrator with ties to North Carolina, Pennsylvania and New
Hampshire, where he lives four months of the year. His poems have appeared in
over 150 periodicals. For further information see http://www.demareepoetry. blogspot.com
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