FavoriteLoadingAdd to favorites

stolen holiday

written by: Alison Vail Fuller

@alisonVfuller

 

your betrayal
hit fast and furious
like an avalanche
spinning
out
of
control
throughout
every
particle
of my being
rampaging my heart
blanketing my hope

dear november,
how I loved you!
cool crisp air
invigorating
my senses
dazzling
yellow-orange-reds
dancing
down
from their trees
back
to the
earth

the crackle-crunch
beneath my feet
transporting me
back home
to childhood leaps
into the
high piles
my father so
carefully raked

you promised
holiday cheer
and good will
and a special day
for giving thanks

only this year
your promise
stands
stripped
naked
and heartache
replaces
your seasonal joy

for you stole
my husband
one year ago
the third day
into your month
and you changed
our holiday
home
forever

gone the man
atop the attic ladder
handing
down
boxes
of
tradition
gone the annual
father/daughter
pumpkin carvings
in our front yard
gone the haunted house
you scared our neighbors with
gone the family-cuddles
with our hooded baby bear
and white-smudged
nine-year-old vampire

for the bear
and the vampire
I will find a way
to forgive you
and I will
search out
happy moments
to embrace

and as for you
my sweet cowboy
I will keep up
our annual
traditions

I will
string
the
lights
and carve
the pumpkins
on the grass
you used to mow
red bandana wrapped
around your sweated brow
and I will think
of your smile
and how much you
loved this season
of football and family

for you
my love
I will find
a way
to forgive
november
and all that
it robbed
from us

and I’ll wear
the cowboy hat
and feel
your smile

Alison Vail Fuller

Alison Vail Fuller

Activist. Warrior. Survivor.
The blank page beckons. It can provide the key to truth, to inspiration, to enlightenment, and to justice. At a time when fundamental democratic institutions are under assault, arts and letters can give testimony to the unprivileged, the underserved, and the forgotten.
I write because it is life sustaining, and I hope that my words reflect, even in a small way, the indomitability of the human spirit.
A Connecticut girl transplanted to New York City’s East Village, I later found my way to Venice, California. I was quickly won over by its tableau of diversity, art, and the breathtaking views that always promise better days—for our daughters, our sons, and all mankind.
Alison Vail Fuller

Latest posts by Alison Vail Fuller (see all)

Read previous post:
The Tsunami written by N.E. Teeuwat Spillwords.com
The Tsunami

The Tsunami written by: N.E. Teeuw   Centuries of oppression And the anger screams to the surface like a tsunami...

Close