A Christmas Poem

Dec 28, 2023 by Tempe Javitz
           Christmas Memories

     One of my treasured memories
     Of many years ago,
     Was tree hunting with my father,
     Through the cold Montana snow.

     It’s not what city folks do,
     Choosing a tree from a lot.
     We scrambled into a pickup,
     A neighbors’ pasture we sought.
     Though warm and cozy inside the cab,
     It was gray and cold without,
     We drove many miles of countryside
     Before reaching the perfect spot.

     Our drive took us out of mountains
     To gentle hills where cedars grow.
     A landscape dotted in sage
     With starched and glistening snow

     Comparing height, width and boughs,
     We trudged through draws and hollows.
     Prickly branches slapped our face
     As we sawed the trunks down low.

     Our boots squeaked in the icy grass,
     As we dragged the cedars along,
     Back to a cold pickup, over a ridge,
     Humming a Christmas song.

     Three trees in all with extra boughs
     Crowded the pickup bed.
     In spite of stiff, cold fingers
     We were thinking of lunch instead.

     A few swift hours of a wintry day
     Like a painting frozen in time
     A childhood memory never forgot
     Spelled out for you in rhyme 

     The years go by and life quickly changes,
     But these memories never fade,
     The crisp winter mornings shared with love,
     Of such wonderment Christmas is made.
               By Tempe Javitz, 2001