“A full moon would help tonight–God. It seems that’s not in the stars.”
Lifting the tree into the trunk wasn’t an effort, as its branches were sparse.
The spruce stood humbly in the living-room decorated for the happy holiday.
Presents bought at the Sally-Anne lay wrapped and waiting for her children to discover,
Christmas morn, she thought of another Mary, caring for her holy infant, long ago.
And she longed for a Joseph as a husband, instead of the drunken lout snoring in her bed.