There was a Christmas long ago

And I was there and so were you,

And when we gathered by the tree

Joy had had gathered too.

And there were gifts and there was food

And there was laughter and surprise

And you would open gifts of mine

And love was in your eyes.

And on that Christmas long ago

As we sat round the table (square)

We spoke of family and friends

Who were no longer there

To share that Christmas long ago.

And now I wonder whether you

Gather by a tree somewhere

Remembering me too.

I wish I knew the names of colors.

I know the basics, of course: Red, Yellow, Blue.

The watercolor set that has sat unused on my desk for so many years provides some help: cobalt, ochre, scarlet.

The colors of childhood crayons have remained in memory: burnt sienna, dandelion, indigo.

But this autumn has outrun them all.

The trees themselves seem to be competing.

Even the little maple outside my porch has decided this year to join the game.

And the evening sun conspires with them all.

I wish I knew the names of colors.

But I’m not sure there are enough.

When I go for a walk, I often have my head down. So far I haven't bumped into anyone. Or they haven't bumped into me. I suppose social distancing has helped, when it comes to that.

I like to think that my fellow sojourners imagine I am deep in thought pondering vast questions of human existence. More likely, they think I am anti-social, which I suppose is partly true.