my Christmas poem

they don’t have traditions
such as baking sugar cookies,
decorating houses made of gingerbread
or filling empty stockings above the fireplace.
in fact, this gathering is a tradition in itself.

each major holiday will find them
lingering around the dining table
like a coterie of hungry wolves,
waiting to feed on their prey.

stimulating conversations of life occur between cousins;
time has passed and has found them on various, unknown paths,
but their bond remains the same.

aunts engage in juicy gossip,
uncles fall asleep on the couch watching sports.

gifts gather underneath the tree for the under eighteens.

grandmother works tirelessly
to provide her loved ones with food they love to eat.

video camera in hand,
grandfather silently
captures a lifetime of memories.

sure,
it’s the same thing every year.
but if there is one thing she is certain of,
it’s that her holidays are full of love.

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