We bellyache vaguely
of the holiday blues.
I'll lay mine out
for you:
There was a brief time
in my life
when I was
almost the hero.
Estranged parents
a wayward replacement
and my brother
they didn't make
met under the same roof
to sit at a long table
with name cards
placed strategically
snowmen and elves
drawn on company time.
Twice a year
this healing was held
after decades of separation
brought together
by what we all thought
would last.
We were wrong
but we have those
memories, silent
and loud
like gunshots
unaware of whether
to be grateful or lost
in the wake
of what almost was.
I would have worn
a better shirt
had I known.
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