Monday, November 30, 2015

Magic Hat 11.30.15

 Out of Season

i colorcode blues&greens and blues&greens and blues&greens
with gray and white and black
perfect plain palettes
but i hardly ever touch
so i’m out of season
and unsure of what to do
or how to be
i don’t know what to wear
how many chairs to set up at thanksgiving
how to make pies, or mashed potatoes with chives
i remember the chives, unfailingly, every year, but
a few years past they disappeared
it was never the same
and we couldn’t go back.
this year i sat at the same table
saw all the same faces
and prayed different words
i am grateful i knew you
i am grateful i knew you
even for
so short
a time.
so many frail slivers of chives
green lost amidst instant white
like my blues&greens and blues&greens and

* * *

At Thanksgiving my siblings, our cousins, and I got heirlooms after dessert. Our grandmother, who passed over the summer, had these tiny rings with our birthstones in them; she wore them on a chain and apparently wanted us to have them. It wasn't sad. It was comforting to get a gift from her over the holiday season even though she wasn't here.

I wrote "Out of Season" at writers' circle last week, anticipating a somber holiday weekend. I imagined it worse than it was. It was good to be together. I know I'm lucky that I can share happy times with my family without fighting, and I hope all of you found some sort of peace in the holiday.


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