Читать книгу Mercy Wears a Red Dress - David Craig - Страница 6

by the Christmas tree, though no child

rushes to help me spread its artificial wings!

Our Down’s guy, however, does note

repeatedly that he’s on the “nice” list.

At twenty-one, he gets his mall picture taken

with me and Santa.

My ADHD daughter, on the other hand,

who does not suffer fools, or her dad, easily,

has art for anything small, while our eldest,

an Aspy, offers only jagged glimpses of his—

bold pen and ink outlines. They are gift,

part of that humble crowd which will lift its face

skyward soon enough, waiting for reindeer,

or something very like that.

I wait for a publisher. My wife, who knows

what she waits for? Maybe better hands

at the piano, though she is already quite good.

Maybe a husband who behaves as he ought.

And the kids? For another world, no doubt,

one to their specs. The trees wait for snow

this time of year, the grass for frost. Snow

is the stuff of hope because it means Christmas,

days off; it means sledding and eggnog,

all the family—a tree to light in the evenings!

It’s like when we used to have summer sleep-outs

in our back yard tent, listen

to THE LORD OF THE RINGS.

Nothing could’ve been cooler.

It’s good to still have them here, despite

the edges. They are, thankfully, who they are

and where they have been.

We will try again this evening, my wife and I—

to make this their home.