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Sonnets From Other Lives: Rudy

When I was a kid at Christmastime
I was a junkie for The Christmas Spirit.
I’d lie under the tree as Silent Night
played on the stereo. I had to hear it
every Christmas Eve just before bed.
I’d lay longing like a soldier overseas
for a Christmas Past or something that I’d read,
about somewhere or more likely seen
on those Christmas Special television shows.
Now, lurching through these crowded big box stores
with their atrocious Christmas Muzak, I don’t know—
I’m not feeling it. It doesn’t work for me.
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.