Joy surrounds me but doesn’t reach my heart.
Wishes of peace stopped short by chaos.
Morning sun is still down, night not yet
releasing its grasp.

I drive in the driving
fat rain, deserted streets,
aimless to nowhere,
sitting beside Alone,
welcomed passenger,
and we reminisce about:

Wet, twilight days, in younger years,
homes trimmed in multicolored ice,
warm fires, warm cookies,
warm hugs.

Alone states the obvious: Absence
in the back seat.

Faster, between harder raindrops,
we return to an abandoned house,
from whence we began.

Alone and Absence and I
join Deafening Silence,
raise our wine-filled coffee cups
to toast one another.

And outside, snow coats
the foothills of evergreens,
heavy clouds hide Merry
fucking Christmas.

Submitted for OpenLinkNight #76 at


About bittersweetverse

Writer, poet, lover. View all posts by bittersweetverse

8 responses to “Merry

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