The Christmas Photo


While I was here, and you were there
There was nothing but Gray
at Christmas revelries. I was alone.

Through crowds of seasonal gaiety
my leaden steps passed un-heeded,
the tears that fell dried without notice.

When once you were mine, I had magic.
Yet there was no trick to undo my loss,
no secret word to stop missing you.

I spat my loathing on the joyous,
turned away from Yuletide revels,
defined myself by the dignity of anguish.

Until I found the Christmas snapshot,
the one where your smile warmed the frame,
delighted by being together.

The memory of your fragrance
breathed life into the photograph
and you were with me once more.

The falling snow around me
created a white canvas for me
to paint my dreams of you upon.

The jingle of carols became angel song
and my Christmas gift was the knowledge
that you had loved me at all.

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