Some Little Thoughts
by Raymonde Sacklyn
Christmas in Hongkong
I hear
my footsteps,
One by one,
Upon the granite stone,
I hear my heartbeat,
Loud and strong,
My chest about to burst
As I grasp what is wrong:
I am alone.
It is Christmas in Hongkong.
Bless the little ones!
They skip and yell and play
In shopping malls, all decked out
With mock snow and trees.
My eyes well up
As I recall the time that I, too,
Was young and gay.
I am old, now,
Slow to walk
Through Hongkong's crowded streets. I roam
With measured pace, longing for those sights
Of bygone years,
Measured by hugs and kisses of loved ones.
I reminisce; I yearn for yore; but
Those times are gone: I am alone.
Cry not for yesteryear!|
Cry that bygone days
Have taught us nothing, today.
Cry that we cannot change
That which should have changed.
Cry that men still kill,
Christmas or not, but, still
Smile and revel to see children at their play.
