Holidays For People Who Aren'T Real People Anymore Poem by sharon wildey

Erase the Christmas tree
With your favorite ornaments
You know the ones you put on the tree since they were little
Since they were little, loving and easily amused

No presents for them or you
No surprises from someone who thought of something you might enjoy
No giving to them
Anything of value from your heart

No Easter baskets with those little yellow chicks
No dinners it took hours to prepare
And glasses of sparkling grape juice in wine glasses
Cherry tarts and cheese fondue
Gone as well

No Thanksgiving guests from foreign lands
The experience of hunger like no other
Followed by the nap of ages
And days of leftovers

All gone
You are gone as well
Replaced by the ghost of their memory
Shaded over with their self righteous distaste
Of the one who loved them

Sit alone on the holidays Mother
Sit alone
On the porch of history
And rock yourself to the rhythm of your ancestors