The Old Booklet

I always hang the little booklet

Upon me Christmas tree.

It takes me back to

St. Gabriel’s in East Elmhurst

Our Lady Of Perpetual Help

In Lindenhurst

St. John the Baptist

In West Islip,

When I wore a younger

Fellow’s clothing

And demeanor.

That book has been

Coeval with everything from

War in Southeast Asia

To a China Virus Pandemic.

Its once crisp pages

Have been read,

Remembered, and forgotten,

By eyes long since closed by death.

2 thoughts on “The Old Booklet

  1. Jules says:

    I knew a gent who always hung cigars wrapped in blue paper on his tree…
    They were a reminder of a gift he’d given his father. Though the father never smoke cigars, he did smoke one of his son’s gift, just to let him know that he appreciated the thought.
    Another man might have told the boy; “I don’t smoke cigars.” And crush the child’s spirit.

    Odd how some traditions grow, and then how some are also lost with blind time.

    Liked by 1 person

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