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Nostalgia
Folder:
weepingwoman lament
monks in high Himalayan caves
don't care what the date is
I will let it go be like any other
twenty-four hours
taboo to be alone on the one day meant
to be spent with kin
no erecting monuments to Nostalgia
in the form of tinseled trees adorned
with dusty ornaments, devoid of gifts beneath
too much pressurized sadness surrounding
this occasion which bears the gilt-tinged images
of happy families in warm embrace
not everyone has that... anymore or maybe ever at all
I did laundry as a small act of revolt
and sipped a Shirley Temple as
my only nod to the bygone Christmas
