Dark reflections --

wrappings spent and ribbons torn;

and all too soon the time has flown --

your eyes give thanks as I leave.

The chill of the night air cuts deep

and I lean against my car

wondering about my own...

their tiny feet running to the tree

and who will see their faces of glee?

With sadness I depart for home;

this is the third stop

to put toys together,

but it isn't the same.

Only one place is in my heart

and I realize I can't be there.

It does no good to think of it now,

but seperation is so bad

and three little kids

won't see their dad

this Christmas.

By klogger1

poofcat.com