Christmas comes but once a year
and those years are beginning to blur.
It is only when I start to decorate the tree,
that the years separate and slow.
Rosie's place setting decorations for a Christmas party.
when I worked in publishing and was feeling flush.
Monika's mother's crocheted lace angel
sent from Poland.
Maddy's peg doll angel
when we were still running together.
Marian's glittery cherub given to the boys
when we used to visit her on Christmas Eve.
She never put the tree up until then.
A knitted doll from the Bonhoeffer Church Christmas Fair.
The oldest decorations from home -
there before I was and miraculously survived -
the bell that really rings.
One tiny bauble which brings back the smell
of pine needles on an icy cold morning
before my father lit the fires.