Saturday, December 23, 2017

Christmas 1957

When I sat here, wary, upon Santa's knee,
as usual with most of what was asked of me,
I doubt I knew what we were there to do.

What was my role? To laugh or to boo-hoo?
But could it be that on that Santa's knee in 1957
was when I discovered I alone could leaven
awkwardness? - that I'd resources I could bring?
For instance, I could sit there and not do a thing.
Perhaps on every holiday I've gone through since -
with fireworks, dyed eggs, or pies called mince -
I've let myself experience, by slow degree,

that I can bear some subtleties of ambiguity.


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