Christmas 1963 by Joseph Enzweiler

Christmas 1963

by Joseph Enzweiler

Because we wanted much that year

and had little. Because the winter phone

for days stayed silent that would call

our father back to work, and he

kept silent too with our mother,

fearfully proud before us.

Because I was young that morning

in gray light untouched on the rug

and our gifts were so few, propped

along the furniture, for a second

my heart fell, then saw how large

they made the spaces between them

to take the place of less. Because

the curtained sun rose brightly

on our discarded paper and the things

themselves, these forty years,

have grown too small to see, the emptiness

measured out remains the gift,

fills the whole room now, that whole year

out across the snowy lawn. Because

a drop of shame burned quietly

in the province of love. Because

we had little that year

and were given much.

Today's poem was published in The Man Who Ordered Perch by the poet, Joseph Enzweiler. It was published by Iris Press in 2004.

I don't think much needs to be said about this poem, as it is very clear in every way.

I will point out the repetition of Because--every sentence begins with this word, making the poem chant-like, which I love. I think list poems that also repeat a first word or phrase are wonderful devices poets use with particularly harsh, sad, and/or traumatic subjects, as it gives the poet some distance as they do not get overly sentimental.

I also admire how the first and last sentences book-end the poem:

Because we wanted much that year

and had little.

Because

we had little that year

and were given much.

The repetition of "that year," "much," and "little" is powerful.

This poem is a great reminder that things are not all that important AND that there are many out there who do not have the things we take for granted.

Merry Christmas Eve!