It’s Christmas, My Love

It’s now Christmas

and I sit alone,

or as alone as I allow myself to be,

for in my mind

live a million memories

of Sundays past,

summer days in the sun

and futures still to be seen,

for nothing has become impossible,

and this world belongs to me,

or at least my own very small part.

 

It’s Christmas now

and tonight I dance in sweet dreams

of you

and love,

and us

and love.

I remember yesterday,

and envision tomorrow’s midnight dances,

and her king destroyed,

better for the dance.

I envision tomorrow’s loves,

tomorrow’s losses,

and tonight I feel warm.

 

And I ask you,

a form of pleading with you,

to remember our warmth,

how it shone between us,

a star all our own,

oh, feel that warmth

change the world around us,

the sky above us.

Remember how easy it was to smile in the sun,

and still remember to smile at good-byes,

to remember them as pauses,

rests until later,

for I cannot taste of what you are

and then remain unchanged,

for I give to you

and share in what you give,

learning,

growing,

changing,

but I ramble.

 

Christmas, my love, is tonight a warm glow,

the dance of my shadow

on the memory of you.

And that, my love,

is what I ask of you tonight,

to place your thoughts on those memories,

how we laughed together,

how we learned to think together,

through time,

almost to be together.

 

Tonight it’s Christmas

and I cannot help but smile

in warm thoughts,

to think of you and whisper,

“Merry Christmas,

My Love.”

December 25, 1997

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