The presents are all unwrapped

And gifts stowed away

In their rightful spaces:

Closets and drawers

And other special places.

The Christmas meal gobbled

And vanished,

The table has returned

To everyday dress.

 

There are no guests

To be lingering on.

This is 2020, no guests allowed

For safety’s sake.

After-Christmas sales are few

As the stores are closed.

 

Traffic near the mall

Is stalled by overflowing

Cars from restaurant take-out lines,

Because those seeking a change

From the food at home

May not dine inside or outside.

All this is a gift of 2020.

 

Parks are attended by very few—

Maybe one, two or three

For a little time—

Kids with a new toy,

A dog with its owner—

Then the park is once more open,

Dormant and waiting

Like spaces long unexplored.

 

Here and there a few people

Are seen about on sidewalks,

Wearing their masks of choice.

It’s been a sad Christmas season.

That’s all too clear.

 

Now, except for a pyramid of tree

With its fading fragrance of pine,

And the lights on the house,

All signs of Christmas are gone.

#ChristmasandCOVID #ChristmasandRestrictions

Caught in a dream

they clutch at the light

beyond the edges of dark

 

They search for answers

with small flutterings:

Who was it, really,

who lived this life?

 

Hands speak the unspoken

the silent questions pile up

like uncollected mail

 

Browning like pages

from an ancient book

they fold

fragile as moth wings

 

Dried leaves

falling through the night

 

#OldAge #Aging

Pinochle was the game they played so well.

It often lasted far into the early morning hours.

Every time they could all get together,

All four were brothers and card sharks all,

Just four bold heads around a table.

Those heads shone brightly under the ceiling light.

They would play each card of every hand

By slamming it down hard upon the table

As if to emphasize the value of that card.

All were so evenly matched in skills,

No two partners would consistently win a hand.

So the hands on the face of the kitchen wall clock

Have sped through four whole hours on this game.

The stakes in the center of the table seem paltry

Indeed for such a great effort to win,

Just a big pile of large wooden matches.

Perhaps, each match represents some special prize?

Suddenly an unexpected run of good cards

And the East-West team is about to win the game.

Now we will see what is that fabulous prize.

All the loud shouts and friendly jesting

Soon let us know that the matches there are just matches

And the real prize is just to win

And to enjoy the pleasure of shouting and jesting

At their brothers for having lost this game.

#Pinocle #BrotherLove  #CardGame

 

 

 

 

GLASS RAIN – Poetry of Margaret Roxby

“HANDS OF THE OLD” was found among the author’s papers. It was inspired by her aging mother who “wrote” messages with her fingers on the arm of her wheelchair during a period when she suffered dementia lasting just over a month following a hospital stay for the flu and a broken hip. It is included this week as we contemplate time passing and the ending of another year.

REFRACTIONS – A poem by Robert Roxby

“THE PINOCLE GAME” describes a recurring event in the author’s family home during the 1920’s and 1930’s. It is included this week in honor of National Card Playing Day (December 27). The poem was first printed in the author’s collected poems, Reflections on a Lifetime.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—a poem by Kathleen Roxby

“TWO DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS 2020” was written during the first year of restrictions due to the COVID pandemic.

ANOTHER SPECTRUM SPECIAL

“This Is Bigamy,” was originally published in Southland Magazine, the Sunday magazine supplement of the Long Beach Press Telegram.

 

The Splintered Glass prompt which inspired the work below is: The subject of immigration has been a hot topic in recent days. Has this issue touched your life personally? How?

 

Years ago while still living in a section of West Virginia highly populated by delightful immigrant folk from Poland–proud, enthusiastic people anxious to learn the language and ways of their new country–we were often affectionately amused by their stumbling but determined efforts. One such instance forms the basis for this story.

The corner drug store aside from being the purveyor of its natural goods, was a common gathering place for discussions of events of the day. There one evening, several young people listened in rapt wonder to one of their midst–admittedly well along the pathway to the goal–read the evening paper! As he came across the headline, “Valley Man Guilty of Bigamy,” listeners besieged him to clarify this fascinating new word–bigamy.

Clearly enjoying his position of pre-eminence, the reader gave some not unimpressive consideration, and suddenly, with the glow of perfect understanding illuminating his features, he enlightened the unenlightened.

“Der was a guy wot had two wifes, and nyether ’em knowed about bot’ of  ’em–dat’s bigamy!”

#Bigamy #Humor #EnglishLanguage

SPLINTERS FOR DECEMBER 2021

  1. The subject of immigration has been a hot topic in recent days.
    1. Has this issue touched your life personally? How?
    2. If you were asked to speak or write on this issue, what would like to your words to be? What effect would you hope for?
  2. December 13 is World-Wide Candle Lighting Day. Does candlelight have special meaning to you? For what would/will you light a candle this December? Why?
  3. December is the end of the year, a time when we begin an inventory of the year almost gone.
    1. As you begin your summary, what stands out?
    2. What are your thoughts at this time?

He wasn’t there

(I know).

The jolly fat man

In the red snowsuit.

 

He wasn’t there.

 

My mother told me later

He couldn’t have been there

Bending over near the chimney

Straightening up the toys.

 

He wasn’t there.

 

And he didn’t turn and nod

To me standing barefoot

In my nightgown

Chilled and thrilled

At the kitchen door.

 

I must have been dreaming.

I know.

 

The presents are all unwrapped

And gifts stowed away

But in the joy of a memory

In the heart of a child,

The four-year old me—

 

I know

And will forever know—

He was there.

#Christmas #ChristmasandChildhood #SantaClaus

On frosted window

early light—dawn striking sun pearls

It’s Christmas morning

 

#Christmas #ChristmasPoetry

 

 

It was just an old red brick house

With its curtained windows staring

At the squalid world without.

All of it like its replicas in red brick

Except for that bright green door

With the vivid scarlet bow tied thereto,

Which somehow extended a welcome

From those within to all of us outside,

Or, at least, to someone they might love.

 

When the young lovers knocked on the door,

They were cheerfully greeted from within.

Sounds of gay talk drifted through,

Accompanied by squeals of delight

And the cheery sounds of happy laughter.

The table was piled high with gifts so bright,

All wrapped and tied in ribbons tight.

 

When the door closed, I turned away,

Left with my drab, ugly, unkind world.

But my life would be changed forever

By vivid memories of another world

Behind a bright, beribboned green door,

Part of an old red brick house

As drab as all the others, except

For that green door with scarlet bow upon it.

#Christmas #ChristmasandWelcome #ChristmasMemories

 

 

GLASS RAIN – Margaret Roxby

“AWAKENING” describes a scene familiar to the author who lived for 30 years in West Virginia where snowy Christmases were frequent.

REFRACTIONS—a poem by Robert Roxby

“RED BRICK HOUSE” first appeared in the author’s collected poems, Reflections on a Lifetime.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS—works by Kathleen Roxby

“HE WASN’T THERE” recalls a memory from when the poet was four years old and awake in the night of Christmas. The poet penned this short memory when inspired by Rod Stewart to write something new for family and friends each Christmas.