I Took My Tree to the Christmas Party
a little embarrassed
she wasn’t yet dressed.
Mum strung up her pearls, rolled
her lipstick into berries. Dad dashed
up the hill and hurried home
with a delicate skirt of snow. Tears
pooled in Uncle Earl’s lonely hands and froze
like icicles as they slipped through his fingers
forgetting why they were ever there –
like stockings he hung them with care.
(published online at 26 Stories of Christmas, December 2013.)