rain's falling softly,
washing away the white:
there'll be no snow left
for Christmas this year.
the green takes me back,
over oceans and time,
to when we were always all together.
before d**h and love broke us apart.
we were family, often friends,
making merry in the old way,
with good food and a fire and truly good cheer—
instead of expensive presents, far too much booze,
and the ever-maniacal Boxing Day sale.
I surprise myself, wishing
those days could come back;
but I can't raise the dead,
nor mend the rift those wild lovers rent
in the family fabric I thought was so strong.
but maybe I don't give it its proper due:
it's clearly holding me, still