My String

What is it that saddens me this year?

The family that once was?

The children grown?

What is it that wrenches me so much, this year?

A modest lunch instead of Christmas dinner?

My brother

In clouded memory does he remain,

Obscured by time and space..

His blurred face fades still more each year;

His picture with me on the floor

It takes me to another place..

As if transported by this trace.

Will I lose another?

Will this be our last, as well..

This year..Dear brother.

My sisters who used to cook and wrap the Christmas gifts ,

endured their little brother

While he holds the ribbon or spills his drink…they twist his ear…

I thought always there would be another..

Will it be our last..This year?

Sister dear

Why is it so hard to count my blessings of witch I have so many?

I can recount them in my brain….but there is no connection;

The string is broken..Lost somewhere in all the ribbon..This I fear;

What is it that saddens me this time of year?

Where is my string of hope...of gratefulness and inspiration..

Where is my string of laughter, excitement or even indignation?

In my mind’s eye..

Distant..Fading..

How do I retrieve it..

There is no picture..No picture..

Lost in ribbon is this I fear..My string..

I say this secretly..

hush..

Do not speak of it….

As if drifting, slippery blackness sticks to me,

As my fingers creak with hesitation quietly..

Without sign..or foot print does it come for me.

Then slowed and halted to a final stop.. Contributing no more..

Fingers motionless, frozen to the keyboard upon the floor..

hussssh