A Christmas Memory

So this is Christmas in the big city The day long coming and going in the cold To stand around a tree reverently Untouched by the yearnings of the fold How beautiful are the stores now The windows sparkle with festive lights Despite the rude and ugly snow plow And yonder hawk's quiet and circling flights. And all the while endless sadness of songs Where there should be bleating and crowing And the parcel laden endless pushing throngs Far from my Knoxwood and cattle lowing Far from the sound of cricket on the green So far away from mother making all clean And the busy stirrings of kitchen and mails Daily expectations that her son's card Lend more light to her fading sight, hard Yearnings that postman's empty sack impales.