She heaves into the woodstove blaze
Her little carousel of wicker angels,
Pulled from Christmas boxes
Remembering with a sigh
Twenty years given to Ananda.
"I'm getting rid of all my religious ikons,"
She said.
Wood-carved madonnas, matchbox baby Jesus,
Even the toy shepherd must go.
"A secular Christmas," she decreed,
"Snowflakes & Santa Claus."
-for Tricia
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