I pretend that instead

I pretend that instead ... the long Christmas holiday catches me out of sorts; when should I visit my son and ex partner, where should I go other times, decisions taken that have no basis for goodness or hope. Christmas day I travel the motorway and buy presents in the service stations. These are Nineteen poems that manage to miss the love and care shown by my brother, his wife and family at their Christmas tea, or forget to tell the story of the bundles of coins that I wrapped up in umpteen sheets of coloured tissue paper for the grandchildren left behind

© Christopher Sanderson 2020