'Tis the season to be hospitable...
HOLIDAY HOMECOMING
She smiled as she
dusted
the ceramic crèche
on the old oak
credenza,
sang as she swept the
kitchen floor,
even Lysoled the
bathroom bowl
with effervescence.
Humming a Yuletide
carol, the woman
rolled pastry into a
thin rectangle
and cut cookies into
shapes
of stars and angels and
lambs.
Spontaneous praise
proceeded from her lips
as she stuffed the
twenty pound turkey,
trussed it tidily,
rubbed it with butter
and sage
and lifted it into the
moderate oven.
She dressed the table
with china and silver,
the slightly yellowed
table linen
stored in her mother’s
cedar chest,
and a silvery bowl of
pink poinsettias
bought at the flower
sale at church.
Her feet ached, but her
eyes sparkled.
This was among life’s
highest joys:
Her adult children
would soon be at the door
bringing presents, hugs
and laughter
and she would get to
serve them Christmas dinner.
Maude Carolan
Maude, I'm sure you know why I love this poem!
ReplyDeleteBarbara, I'm guessing that you love this poem because you can see yourself in it...feet aching and eyes sparkling!
ReplyDelete