poetry Christmas Comes

For Pagans and other Non-Christians, the holiday spirit can mean helping the hungry and homeless, and remember to wear a mask.

Peter Neil Carroll newversenews.com
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Christmas Comes

By Peter Neil Carroll

Today isn’t my holiday;

neither did the Puritans celebrate Christmas—

only after huddled masses, tempest tost

slipped through Ms Liberty’s golden door

did Santa tumble down the chimney.

So what? says the bored look

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in my child’s eye. All day we shall suffer

her shame, born to pagan parents,

she will see us through the eyes

of little friends who believe.  

Yes, Virginia, today we will dash to church.

Not to pray, mind you, but to see the unseen

wretched refuse lining on cold sidewalks  

and to serve those we will have

with us always, strung out

like light bulbs at St. Anthony’s.

At noon, we dollop beans and rice,

turkey, spuds, chopped carrots and greens.

Everyone polite, clean, stiff-backed,

without voice or tune

or jingled bell, only the scrape of chairs,

spoons tinkling in tepid cups.

Peter Neil Carroll will be publishing two new collections of poetry             in 2022:

Talking to Strangers: Poetry of Every Day Life (Turning Point Press) and This Land, These People: 50 States of the Nation which has won the Prize Americana from the Institute of Popular Culture.