Once more I sit in the predawn dusk
Sipping coffee illuminated by blinking lights.
Though my eyes rest on the Christmas tree,
My mind wanders to Christmas morns past.
The last Christmas we spent together,
Presents stacked, children sleeping on the floor.
We'd joked, ate pizza, laughed with each other,
And listened to the poem I read every year.
My daughter's first Christmas in my home state,
The tree and ornaments given to us,
Santa stopped by and left some presents for her,
None were labeled with my name.
The last Christmas I spent at home,
Dad had left, times were tough,
Mom worked hard for what she earned,
Yet there we were together.
The year my dad was in New York,
Mom made and sold candy to pay for our gifts,
Presents were spare under the donated tree.
None were labeled with her name.
The Christmas my sister and I woke early,
We snuck downstairs to see what Santa had left,
A dropped red box with a sailboat on the lid,
Almost gave us away.
The light gradually dawns, my husband wakes,
He comes in the room where I sit and gaze.
"Merry Christmas," he says with a smile on his face,
Another year of Christmas memories to make.
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