Dear Margaret

Another member of the Class of 19-long,long time ago just got sent to the Principal’s Office In The Sky.  Why does it always happen during the Christmas season?, I’m asked.  Just seems that way, I tell them. – JDW

You guessed it.

That’s me right in front of the teacher.

We didn’t start dating until spring semester.

***

Dear Margaret,

Good to hear from you,

even if the reason is sad.

Whenever we lose a classmate,

get out my copy of the yearbook

and go, Oh, I remember her.

Or not.

You I carry in my boyhood heart.

Which, it must be noted,

is where I carry myself.

Have become so emotional of late

wife mentioned my crying to the doctor.

Man-o-pause perhaps, too much estrogen maybe.

Honey, I’m hormonal.

Good news is, not consciously depressed.

And I am crying at happy stuff.

Kind of embarrassing.

Just wrote a Christmas piece with a tragic ending.

Stomach problem for eleven months.

Literally.

And I know what “literally” means.

Roiling right now like a bad marriage.

The campaigns, the election, incoming gang of thugs,

Xmas sales, hypocrisy and greed

and prevarication, now that extra gonad,

not to mention inevitable conclusion

aging best defined as living

and decomposing at the same time.

Not literally, of course.

***

Happy Holidays!!