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Passage of Time at Christmas
Deep December snow blanketed the yard.
We- the family, sat around our grandparents
where presents towered over us lyttling Dietz kids.
Since we’re still too small for savory rum and coke
we listened to stories and jokes of a lost time.
Reminding us kids to leap for hopes and dreams.
So we scrambled for those open reachable dreams
as light snow peppered the dead yard.
We shared stories of our dribbling time
as we loitered around a picture of our grandparents.
Most of us were still too small for rum, so we had a chilled coke
with our presents stacked like lumber might in a yard for creative kids.
Yet we got a few cards later, always jutting with money for the kids.
So us Dietz kids can have some sparse dreams
while we took a longing sip of rum and coke.
There was no more marble comforting snow in the yard,
so we still sat with our pictures of long lost grandparents.
Where we reminisced once more of a joyous time.
We began to reflect and tell stories of past time
with a few cards and towers of presents for the new kids.
Yet our disarrayed sitting accommodated multiple grandparents,
for each fed their own kids dream
while staring out the bay window at the salty snow yard
drinking a tempting full rum and coke.
Some of the jovial kids took a thimble of rum and coke
as they listened to the second hand stories of time
and a cataclysmic blizzard stamped across the yard.
The presents tumble and crash over the grand kids
as they carelessly spouted their dreams
to their group of slouched grandparents.
Now though, the family sits around me, the last grandparent.
I hand out drinks of rum and coke
while my kids make their own dreams
and they listen to my mumble of stories of forgotten time.
Surrounded by my growing children and their kids,
the light snow chills my creaky bones and the desolate yard.
Now it is the new kids blaring time.
For they have their own dreams with rum and coke.
Yet they’ll remember their grandparents, always looking out at the yard.