Specters Of Christmas Poem by Thoughts of a Single Man

Specters of Christmas


The city is silent on Christmas eve

all the people are gone now

exiting from the winding roads of the sleepless town

behind closed doors figures move in joyful reverence

casting shadows on the windows as I drive by

unable to reach my family

and with none of my own

I am alone

as I have often been this time of year

I was sentenced by a nameless judge to a former life

of a ungrateful child and a the horrors of my former wife

time marched on

and I began to hate all those dam Christmas songs

I drove on

and the winds began to howl like a mourning wolf

as the luster of hanging moon

became clouded by the floating flakes of falling snow

the air hissed like a venomous serpent

seeking to penetrate the windows of my vehicle

and strike me with is insidious sting

the radio plays as more joyful tidings are expressed

and random voices begin to sing

such a blessed thing for some

but to others like me who traveled the lonely road

these words leave me numb

images dance before my fleeting sight

like flashes of the camera of my mind

the ghosts of Christmas past

the people who I have loved and lost

those who truly mattered

seem to bring a bit of warmth to my icy soul

like puffs of a breath upon the winter frost

am I lost?

or has my directions already be designed

somewhere in the depths of a map makers mind

perhaps I have fallen too far

still seeking that path beneath the North star

to show me my way home

there in the empty house I sit in the dark

hearing the steady beat of my thumping heart

and almost feel the wet trickle of tear slide down my cheek

and then I begin to speak

what I am thankful for

grateful in my knowledge that I have survived

that I have thrived

that I am still alive

and perhaps

just perhaps

this is my holiday treat

my divine gift

my Christmas miracle

that I will press on and weather the coming storm

I look out of the sliding door of my living room

seeing festive outlines in the lights of the other homes

so vividly lit like the lights that adorn their roofs and doors

as voices of the past whisper words of faith in my ear

I close the blinds and turn of the lights

and lay down in the rivers of my own thoughts

and drift away into the ether of my consciousness

sometime I wonder

if this is really the most wonderful time of the year

it must be

for my words still come to me

and I still seek the one

and last but most important of all

I am still here

residing in the companionship of the kindred entity

and resting with the unseen company

of the specters of Christmas.


Thoughts of a Single Man 2012 tm