Poetry Friday: Twas a Florida Christmas
I found this through a quick googling:
There weren’t any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
for Santa came in through the Florida room.
He stopped at each house….stayed only a minute,
emptying his sack of stuff that was in it.
Before he departed, he treated himself
to a glass of papaya juice upon the shelf.
He turned with a jerk and bounced to the car,
remembering he still had to go very far.
You can read the whole poem
here.
Most people think Christmas requires cold and snow, but for me a temperature of no lower than 60 degrees seems just about right.
One year, the thing I wanted the very most for Christmas was a navel orange. Santa brought me one, and it was the most beautiful orange ever. I refused to eat it, it was so beautiful.
It molded. That was less pretty.
Still, I fondly recall my Christmas orange.
This is the website of Kimberly Hirsh. The subtitle of this site comes from the description of woodland goth on the Aesthetics wiki.
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I acknowledge that I live and work on unceded Lumbee, Skaruhreh/Tuscarora, and Shakori land. I give respect and reverence to those who came before me. I thank Holisticism for the text of this land acknowledgement.
We must acknowledge that much of what we know of this country today, including its culture, economic growth, and development throughout history and across time, has been made possible by the labor of enslaved Africans and their ascendants who suffered the horror of the transatlantic trafficking of their people, chattel slavery, and Jim Crow. We are indebted to their labor and their sacrifice, and we must acknowledge the tremors of that violence throughout the generations and the resulting impact that can still be felt and witnessed today. I thank Dr. Terah ‘TJ’ Stewart for the text of this labor acknowledgement.