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Thomas MitseffI awake on a chilly Xmas morning, watch the choir singing carols on TV. I gaze out thru my window at a dozen other windows then I plug in my artificial tree. Like a dream I begin to remember every Xmas I used to know a thousand miles away a million years ago. I remember sky, it was blue as ink or at least I think I remember sky. I remember snow soft as feathers, sharp as thumbtacks coming down like lint and it made you squint when the wind would blow and ice like vinyl on the streets cold as silver, white as sheets. Rain and strings and changing things like leaves. I remember leaves green as spearmint, crisp as paper. I remember trees bare as coat racks, spread like broken umbrellas. And parks and bridges, ponds and zoos, ruddy faces, muddy shoes. Light and bees and boys and bees and days. Oh, I remember days or at least I try but as years go by, they're a sort of haze and the bluest ink isn't really sky and at times I think I would gladly die for a day of sky.
To Mommy & Daddy
A Christmas Lullaby
Your loving daughter, Denise, Molly, David, family and friends.
Published in The Repository on Dec. 9, 2012