Christmas waits like gift wrap glowing warm beneath welcoming arms
of pine needles hanging heavy –
inside, table set waits by candlelight, and each flame preens
in the eyes of orange and blue Dala horses.
Soon, with guided hands, we set the course of helgdad frukt soppa.
Like cinnamon and cardamom from the svenske kringlor in the oven,
knotted just how our grandmother taught us, we breathe.
{poem from last year, slightly revised … Merry Christmas poet friends!!}
Poetry by JC Snyder 
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