the fickle wavering tinnitus of the dark
envelops me in a bristling fog
the sounds of your irascible father
impatiently tuning his old wireless
come to mind
under the nights’ sombre eclipse
the childrens’ discarded anticipation
lies punctured and strewn across the floor
the cold cuts of yesterday’s wonder
the season expects me to prolong festivities
but these are sallow regretful days
and I play out the benign charades
of this year’s flickering wick
in bored anticipation
my gift-wrapped hopes wait
to be recycled in resolutions
*
Graham R Sherwood 12/21
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 
Some nice lines here Graham.especially the first, and the tuning of the wireless chimes with my own memories – we weren’t to talk when the pools results came on for instance. He nearly won once….
Ray. Happy new year!
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