Shelved

 

This Christmas there will be no flames.

 

We are subdued.

 

The best we can hope for is a quiet undecorated dinner.

 

 

 

I feel guilty but not remorseful.

 

I  am puzzled by my failings and

 

I am not quite sure what to do

 

with all the ragged pop-up memories.

 

 

 

I can't paste them back together,

 

but I can't throw away the book either.

 

So this year everything will be neatly shelved, 

 

for being tidy keeps serenity intact.

 

 

 

Lorna Harris (December 1, 2011)

Another Poem

Get-togethers

Before lunch in the parish hall,

the old women sit silently

at the long tables –

waiting for grace.

They are sharp-eyed, unsmiling, dour;

their wrinkles set in place by the confidence of duty –

waiting for grace.

I grip my plastic glass to the point of breaking,

I have just about smiled my face to pieces.

Such serenity as theirs is hard-bought.

I am brittle

and still

waiting for grace.

(September 29, 2010)