A Christmas Sonnet

    
                    
                             I don’t know what to get the man. He loves
                             his gun, so I could get him stuff to shoot,
                             plus extra rounds of ammo. I could put
                             his favorite smokes in something that removes
                             the risk of drying out. He disapproves
                             of sentimental junk, but I could foot
                             the bill to fly him west before it’s moot.
                             Whatever, more than just a pair of gloves.
                             
                             It won’t be what he wants, nor what he needs
                             to give him balance, get him back on track,
                             make his smile sincere past Christmas Day
                             out when the meaning of it all recedes
                             like unbought items left on layaway;
                             but sorry, I can’t give him her come back.
        

        


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8 Responses to A Christmas Sonnet

  1. Brenda says:

    Aww, this is sweet, and sad. Perhaps a funny movie to make him forget for a little.

  2. A close friend and muse wrote a beautiful Christmas sonnet last year for her first child, then followed it up this year with another Christmas sonnet for her second. I’ve been inspired to write several this Christmas. This is one of those.

    I nanny for the baby of another dear friend who lost his wife this past year. They always have things to get for the man who has everything, but what do you get for the man who feels he’s lost just about everything.

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