December"Il va neiger dans quelques jours"--Francis Jammes
The giant Norway spruce from Podunk, its lower branches bound,
this morning was reared into place at Rockefeller Center.
I thought I saw a cold blue dusty light sough in its boughs
the way other years the wind thrashing at the giant ornaments
recalled other years and Christmas trees more homey.
Each December! I always think I hate "the overcommercialized event"
and then bells ring, or tiny light bulbs wink above the entrance
to Bonwit Teller or Katherine going on five wants to look at all
the empty sample gift-wrapped boxes up Fifth Avenue in swank shops
and how can I help falling in love? A calm secret exultation
of the spirit that tastes like Sealtest eggnog, made from milk solids,
vanillin, artificial rum flavoring; a milky impulse to kiss and be friends.
It's like what George and I were talking about, the East-West
Coast divide: Californians need to do a thing to enjoy it.
A smile on the street may be loads! you don't have to undress everybody.
"You didn't visit the Alps?"Having and giving but also catching glimpses
"No, but I saw from the train they were black and streaked with snow."
hints that are revelations: to have been so happy is a promise
and if it isn't kept that doesn't matter. It may snow
falling softly on lashes of eyes you love and a cold cheek
grow warm next to your own in hushed dark familial December.
***
I've been talking to myself again: "Why are you trying to force my hand?" "Is it really so hard to love me?" "Have some self-respect." I'm feeling the pressure. But I think things might be "happening," though it's only an intuition. A new era would be all right by me.
Love,
Alice
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