We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

16.12.24

My Holiday Anxiety


Alone, elderly, widowed, 

the family all scattered —

what I dread about Christmas

is the kindness of rescuing friends …

but refusals would seem

not only rude, ungrateful, but weird.

So, false polite thanks as they drag me

from sweet Pagan solitude. 




Actually, I did tell the friend who invited me this year, 'I don't really do Christmas.' But she said, ' Wouldn't you just like to come for a nice Vegan meal?' Put like that, it did sound nice, and I accepted happily.


This poem started out to be a sijo, but I needed an extra line, so I'm calling it an extended  sijo.


Written for Friday Writings #157: Holiday Anxieties.





5 comments:

  1. This brief poem carries a lot of truths...sometimes the kindness can get weird but a home-cooked meal is always a wonderful offer. I do love the sound of sweet, pagan solitude. That said, do pop in anytime you have the craving for Indian food!! :) :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, how I wish I could pop in and visit with you.

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    2. (PS I think it's my desire to retreat into aloneness which is weird, really.)

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  2. How lucky you are to have such kind and loving friends....so many are left alone not by choice. Enjoy the holidays

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Indeed I am very blessed in my friends, and after all I can indulge my introversion at other times.

      Delete

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