Every December

Every December


Every December as chimney smoke curls under the porches
and white spruce sway in the piercing blasts of wind
a solitary candle flickers in the window
in anticipation of her return.

Every December he blows hot chocolate steam
onto the icy windows and sits silently
drawing the same silly circle snowmen
she always caressed into her breath.

Every December the radio plays the same lonely song
as he absently caresses piano keys
holding her gently on the narrow bench
and nuzzling her long, soft hair.

Every December he wakens on the sofa
clutching a pillow into his contorted body,
still feeling her warm breath
despite the draft of the abandoned fire.

Every December her memory walks out of his dreams and
drapes her red velvet bathrobe across his feet,
snuggling closely against him
into his passionate embrace.

Every December he strings lights on the tree
hanging shiny silver bells with velvet red bows,
and carefully repacks her stocking
tracing every letter of her name.

Every December
he watches for her favorite dress
to walk out of every store, down every street,
and into every room.

Every December he stares into the tree
in the still silence after the clock strikes Christmas
watching reflections of flickering lights
dancing across her smiling face.

Every Christmas morning he wakens
to her fresh scent on his pillow,
listening to the faint echo of her voice
softly singing Christmas carols.

Every December he naps in the falling cedar prickles
beneath the deserted tree,
awakening to her absent fingers
tracing the curve of his lips.

Every December
he listens for her quiet laughter
as the clock chimes in a new year,
in which he will vow to forget her,
but he will fail,
every December.