Memories

Cam Prochaska 

The turnkey in the old music box still clicked, even after setting unused all these years.  The melody tinkled in the hollow air of the old vacant house as I looked at the plaques and photos still hanging on the dusty walls.  A profound sadness engulfed me.  Where had time gone?  Those in the photos were now ghosts, the prints on the plaques reminders that they once existed, full of life, rigor, and happiness.  I wanted to crawl into the photos and be with them once again, time at stand still.  The wistful wind blowing outside amplified my loneliness. They would not be coming back, ever.

My face wet with tears, I sat and stared at the lifeless photos as the music box wound down and finally stopped playing, “You are my Sunshine.”

 Bah… Humbug?

Cathy Thorp

           Sometimes I see no sense in manic merrymaking.

          I think I’ll sit back, read a book and sip a cup of tea.

          I send Christmas cards to those whom I remember.

          I drop five dollars as my anonymous tithe in a few red kettles.

          And singing has eased me from my shell somewhat

          To share the joy of music that’s always been in me.

          I bought a silly Bah Humbug hat for my hubby.

          He’s not a Scrooge at all, just a stay at home kind of guy.

          The news, the blues, the heavy hearts, way too many I see.

          I do what I can.  I pray for the highest good. I wait and see.

        

          Mannheim Steamroller is in town tonight. 

          I told myself I’d go next time they came.

          The same night as EWC.  Too bad.

          Maybe next time.  Bah Humbug!