A Christmas Blip Poem

We had a lovely walk in the low clear light of morning. The streets were quiet and few people were about. We exchanged Merry Christmases with those who were and came home ready for the day. We had a good time with good food and laughter and nice presents. It was good to be home after two years of enforced absence

On our walk I took a photo in the blink of an eye of this man walking with such quiet purpose up Dundas Street. Looking at the photo when the day had all but passed it started me off writing these few words about Christmas.

Old Christmas came again
Surefooted and certain
And yet despite the familiar ritual
Uncertain as to how the day would run.

So much jostling for attention,
beneath the day’s early start:
would presents, drink and food
be enough
to build a bridge that could bear
the weight of the coming year
and mend all wrongs
in the one to pass?

Of course they couldn’t.

But we did our best
And beat back against the drifting rain,
The early dark,
And the quick passing
of the precious hours.

Can one ask much more than that:
That the day went well,
And well enough,
And ended well?