Jazz

she could never have imagined,

not that little girl,

brown eyes level with the kitchen table,

her grandma saying “ There is no Christmas”

that little girl

many years on

sitting with someone who loves her

watching a jazz quartet

in an ancient beamed room, lit by candles,

in a small village in Southern France

that little girl

there.    Then

more than seventy Christmasses

wrapped themselves around her

and gifts of peace and contentment,

and simple joy

fell like leaves

into the soul

of that little girl.

 

 

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