Poetry for December Days
Poetry soothes our soul, captivates our imagination, and makes us think. Check out the December poems from our wonderful poets.
A Survival Technique
How am I now, much older and wiser?
Lately preoccupied with Moderna and Pfizer,
Still thinking of a bright future in sight,
After we get through this terrible fright.
Holidays pass too quickly by us,
Being with loved ones is certainly a plus,
Getting by is not the point at all,
It is filling a life this season, this Fall,
With faith in the fact that this too shall pass,
We will get through this with wit and some class,
Don’t forget how to feel better,
One way is:
Find a person, go on and get her,
To give you some botox and a bit of filler.
Feels terrific until you get the biller.
Oh, come on, at least get your hair done!
~Carol Ostrow, author of Poems from My Pandemic Pen
The leaves are finally
the color of tea.
I have been patiently waiting
but this year has kept me waiting
they would not ever change again.
The foliage’s rainbow’s late arrival
feels tardy like everything else.
Time is jam-packed again
but is passing ever so slowly for me.
I want this period of purgatory
and the inertia of Covid to end.
I want to sit in that sweet spot
where the sunbeam illuminates the arm of my chair,
and focus on nothing but
the spinal string
of my tea bag bobbing,
diving and emerging
amidst the steam
inside my cup.
I want to relax
with my feet up,
for the earth to cool.
~ Nicole Freezer Rubens, author of The Long Pause and the Short Breath…Poems & Photos & Reflections on New York City’s Pandemic
The play I wrote
“A Perfect Storm”
Or is it?
Reactions lead me
Perhaps more people need to see it
To identify with it
We are a unique group
Living through an historic time
We sometimes lose sight of that
Living where I have a history
I see things differently now
Today, I drove past a place
Which, just a few years ago
Or was it 25?
Had no trees between house and road
Now they are separated
By fully grown trees with golden foliage
Glistening in the sunlight
Then, I passed a house I knew well
Owned by my then best friend
It boasted a cave in the mountain behind
I think I saw the cave
For the first time today
What is yet to come?
I wish I knew
Or do I?
~ Stephanie Sloane, author of Dear Me: Poems of Loss, Grief, and Hope in New York’s Darkest Days
She pushed the bullies off a cliff in her colorful dreams
Though they returned she moved forward
This is not a teenage lament
See it stays with you because it is hard to let go of
When you see another go through it and all you can do is listen
In this case Never judge
You are not like them
You are not supposed to be
You stand out in a crowd though you don’t see
Better this way
Until you see the Ugly Ducking is really a Swam
Kind. sweet, patient and better than they could ever dream of being
~Madlyn Epstein Steinhart, author of Put Your Boots on and Dance in the Rain