[I was sad at Christmas]
I was sad at Christmas
though celebrating
in a warm safe home,
my parents smiling over coffee
in white porcelain mugs
while watching us open gifts
they assembled the night before.
Unable to embrace the day,
I sensed but could not name
the impermanent nature of joy,
not yet comforted by knowing
that joy returns after sorrow
once we find ourselves ready
to receive its great gifts.
– Joseph Neely
I’m not sure if I’ve ever revised and rewritten a poem, over the course many months, as much as I did this one. Early versions began with asking Sigmund Freud why, as a child, I was sad at Christmas. While working on the poem, however, I realized – after 60 years – precisely why I was once sad at Christmas; i.e., a foreboding that nothing good lasts forever. Yes, poetry can inspire such insights. I was, therefore, forced to ‘kill my darling’ (I thought the whole Sigmund Freud thing was essential and clever) in order to reflect that new knowledge.
My book, SLOW RIVERS, can be ordered through your local bookstore or online via bookshop.org. (ISBN 979-8-218-43822-7). Yes, you can also find Slow Rivers on Amazon, but does Jeff Bezos really need the money?
It is recommended that every post have some sort of graphic to attract readers. This is our dog, Lincoln. This photo has absolutely no connection to the poem posted herein. Good boy, Lincoln.
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Joseph Neely, all rights to original material reserved.
The Occasional Poem 