F. William Broome
Just before Christmas, I have a need to
say goodbye once more to loved ones
who believed deeply to never grow up,
and, who never believed it wasn’t real.
Two days before the Big One, I would
give Mama hundreds of dollars and
turn her loose in a Department Store
while we kids cook Christmas dinner.
On Christmas Eve, I would put Daddy
in my car and drive to the showroom of
our Cadillac dealer, and with cash in
hand, help him select his first new car.
Christmas morning, I would wake up
next to Her, one more time, allowing
sleep until I serve hot tea, then encircle
warmness while she holds my hand.
©Copyright December 21, 2007 by F. William Broome