A Christmas Story.

A Christmas Story.

Bring me home

Dig up the bones

Buried beneath the dust

Of bygones

Where the worms lie

Flat and dry

In the heat of an unforgiving sun

Everything passes

Even the thought

Of dying ended with the last breath

As hot blood salted

The earth

Staining it forever

Nothing really mattered

But the empty place

At the table

When the speeches were made

Christmas would never

Be the same

Laughter doused in tears

The pinprick

Of absence

I felt for you then

As the ground rose

Up to meet the sky

Just for an instant

It was soft

Floating on memory

The grass smelled as fresh

As the zest of a lemon

Warm folded towels

Fruitcake and brandy

Grandma’s homemade

Ginger wine

Sunday best

Easter bonnets

Posies carried by maids of honour

A boutonniere

A corsage on prom night

Wreaths on coffin lids

A rose in the grave

So many

Lie with me,

Too many

Over the years,

There are no great wars

But a great many

Lost souls

Looking to

Find their way home.