The Writer's Almanac

I happened to tune in to the Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor yesterday, which I always enjoy but rarely remember (Thankfully, I've now realized the Writer's Almanac is available as a podcast).  

Two things struck me in yesterday's brief airing.  The first was a poem written by Joseph Enzweiler titled "Christmas 1963", which you can read below.  The second was Keillor's signature sign-off:  "Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."  There are many, many occasions when I come to an end of a letter or email, and I just can't find the right expression to close.  My customary ones are traditionally, "Blessings," and "Take good care," but I really appreciate Keillor's.  Of course, his is now a registered trademark.  But, nonetheless, I might confiscate his intellectual property every now and then.  

On to the poem ...

Christmas 1963
by Joseph Enzweiler

Because we wanted much that year
and had little. Because the winter phone
for days stayed silent that would call
our father back to work, and he
kept silent too with our mother,
fearfully proud before us.

Because I was young that morning
in gray light untouched on the rug
and our gifts were so few, propped
along the furniture, for a second
my heart fell, then saw how large
they made the spaces between them

to take the place of less. Because
the curtained sun rose brightly
on our discarded paper and the things
themselves, these forty years,
have grown too small to see, the emptiness
measured out remains the gift,

fills the whole room now, that whole year
out across the snowy lawn. Because
a drop of shame burned quietly
in the province of love. Because
we had little that year
and were given much.

 
"Christmas 1963" by Joseph Enzweiler, from The Man Who Ordered Perch. © Iris Press, 2004.