You died twenty years ago today.
On February 7, 1998, you passed away.
You were born in 1910 and died at the age of eighty-seven.
Twenty years ago, you left this Earth and went to Heaven.

You became a widower in 1957 and had your kids to finish raising.
You finished raising your kids by yourself and that was amazing.
When you died, it was something that I hated.
You were my Papaw and you were appreciated.

I am widowed and my children are all grown.
They are busy with their own families.
My tree is bare of leaves and no birds sing.
The house is quiet and I wait in hope
That the phone will ring or some friend might stop by;
Anything to end my isolation

I hear the mail slot open and the thud
of magazines and junk mail on the floor.
The letter carrier, gone without a word,
walks briskly in the outside bitter cold.

The radio is on and comforts me.
a chance, at least, to hear other voices.
They prattle on about terrorist threats;
venial Politicians and celebrity divorces.

Another year reaches its anticlimactic end.
I’ll watch the ball drop and prepare for bed.
It is for others to make the New Year Ring-
My tree is bare of leaves and no birds sing.

Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree
How quick I disassemble thee!
I check each cranny and each nook
for every ornament and hook.
I pack each carefully- Heaven knows
None of our snowmen must lose his nose!
I roll the garland in a ball
And take the lights off last of all.
Then I put you upon the shelf
Next to that small mischievous elf!
When I was young our trees were real
and while that memory holds appeal,
To **** a live tree every Yule
Would be the action of a fool