There will be no Christmas letter
from us this year.
No Christmas letter, and no attending parties
where people talk and laugh and fill each other in
on their lives.
We have gone under water
and all our currency is ruined,
Or we have flown or fallen
into some different world
where we have yet to learn the referents.
We are rendered mute
not by being empty
but by being full —
too full to stir the new things in
(sloshing over the sides)
We’d love to tell you all about this
but we can’t.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 8, 2015
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