Noel Tales

A monument upon the lifeless remnant
of someone who had built a loving home
reminded me, in horror, I’m a tenant
in vibrant flesh condemned to vacant bone.
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At dusk, below a slender crescent moon,
as stars adorned the winter firmament,
melancholy overwhelmed my mood,
for nothing but our deaths seemed permanent.
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Delight dispelled my gloom: I was beguiled
when, back inside his home, I got to witness
his widow’s way of charming their grandchild
with tales of him, the evening of Christmas:
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She lay beside the tree as though a present
and shared a gift of love’s enduring presence.
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Mario A. Pita
Sonnet originally published in Lyrical Emissary

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