Merry Christmas, Everyone! Whether or not you’re a believer, I hope you enjoy your day with friends and family, build a snowman or stay inside by the fire. Here’s a new poem to read while you drink something warm.
THE MANGER
For years I lived across the street
from a house, come winter, that was covered
in lights—the reindeer, fat Santa in the chimney
mount, all Christmas save a tilted menorah strapped
to an apple tree. At the center, parked next to
the driveway, was the manger scene,
the three wise men steeped
in plowed snow. David’s staff missing since Year 2
of playing neighbor, probably stolen
by the dog who was struck
right after that year’s first big freeze.
Then, a breeze, the WE’RE MOVING GARAGE SALE
signs, right there in the snow,
many things wrapped
in plastic and garbage bags. Even
the yard was for sale; the reindeer went first, fat Santa
and the menorah, and then pieces
of the manger scene, one wise man after the next, but no one
could seem to put a price on him:
small Jesus winking in the night.
