Christmas Day
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My mended sock hung on a chair
As winter snow flew everywhere.
A sprig of holly on the door.
It didn't matter we were poor.
A snowman built with our young hands,
We were grateful, with no demands.
It was enough to share our dreams;
Imagine Santa in moonbeams.
My brother with his 22
Shot a rabbit we'd eat as stew.
To have a Christmas meal felt swell.
We said a prayer of thanks as well.
Then in our Christmas socks was cheer.
Papa hand carved us each a deer.
Those days now seem so long ago
As I reflect on Christmas snow.
December 23, 2016
Christmas Day Poetry Contest
Sponsor Alexis Y.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
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