My Snowman
Gregory A. Kompes
Yuletide carols play. Scratchy records
Compete with hi-fi static, livid words.
Tree in stand, more effort than joy
Parentīs control competition keen.
Lights next, string after string
Arduous chore, or so he says.
Dark made light. We anticipate.
Boxes of ornaments, our task, await.
Finally their time, tissue-wrapped
History emerges once again
After a year of slumber in
Hidden attic peak safety.
Drunk father, angry mother
Opposite corners revisited.
Their fury unimportant as snow
Flies beyond ice-frosted windows.
Memories we hang, gently as directed.
Fragile testimony in glass and ceramic
Proof of times past, happier, or so she says.
Remembrance fills the fragrant spaces.
There it is, finally emerged from the morass
The shiny snowman, my favorite, at last.
Blue and gold sparkle, his smile sincere
He follows our progress year after year.
I linger a moment, my friend in hand
Perfect spot chosen for his holiday to spend.
Heīll keep watch over me from evergreen perch
Through storms, fights, and holiday mirth.
Last task reached, place tinsel,
Strand by strand, on command. Yet,
Christmas hope survives. My snowman
Preserves and restores magic each season.