The Presents Under the Tree

We are driving on Christmas Day

We drive down highways that are empty,

like veins that are drained of blood 

Highways that are bald,  

with snow gently drifting across them.

It is too cold to talk.

With mufflers and mittens,

the radio station softly murmurs,

and the cold reaches us in the car anyways

If you stopped  car and got out, 

you would freeze to death

The bright cold day would swallow you whole

The car exhales breath out of the exhaust pipe 

that is chalk white

As we wind down empty streets,

The sun in the sky is only an apology

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

I very much like the short stanzas and the restraint in the use of adjectives; in my view, it nicely emphasizes the stark, unadorned nature of winter. My only ciriticism is that I would think about not having a one-line opening stanza, perhaps combining it with the second line so it reads "We are driving on Christmas Day, down highways that are empty..." Still, that's a pretty minor complaint with a pretty damn fine piece--and, as others have noted, that last line is a killer.

[Samuel Pennell]

Thank you so much! I didn't see this review until now! It looks like you were really in the groove, and really got what I was saying. God bless my friend. Happy reading!

[wordman]

going to grandmas house to eat dinner,cold as heck long ride kids getting antcy

[Samuel Pennell]

Thank you wordman. That is definitely a situation in which this applies! More specifically, this piece explores the feeling of being a teenager and driving somewhere on Christmas, and feeling really empty and lonely. Everyone else is attached to a family, but you are not quite young enough to be opening presents under a tree, not quite old enough to be wrapping them, and putting them under a tree for kids, either. You feel like an outsider crack head or something as you drive around, alone on Christmas. The whole thing is compounded by the crushing cold.

[wordman]

sounds like a very sad place to be

[icelandicblue]

I absolutely love that last line. You've captured the textures and temperatures in this one.

[Samuel Pennell]

Thank you Icelandic! Great insight as usual. I think the insight I get from you is probably the best.

The last line just sort of came to me, and I don't know why, but I think it was inspired by a story that I heard from World War II. (I don't know if I should reveal my inspirations, but for another writer why not?) The story goes that a high ranking Japanese general had fought with all he had against the Americans in the Pacific, but they had lost. As many Japanese warriors write a death poem going back to the Samurai and their warrior philosophy known as Bushido, he wrote one as well. He committed suicide, and in his death poem, a letter to the emperor, he said "My death is my apology." I was just inspired by the idea that a noun could be an apology. In this case, the sun. "The sun is an apology."

[icelandicblue]

That is a fascinating story and it was perfect inspiration for that line. I read it a number of times. It was the jewel of the poem.

[Samuel Pennell]

Thanks, Icelandic!

[Skai Rain]

A great poem! Winter truly is an unforgiving terror... No amount of Christmas presents could ever change my mind. Keep up the good work.

[Samuel Pennell]

Thank you Brit! That is so true! There is no amount of Christmas presents under the tree that could make up for the freezing vinyl seats and make you change your mind. I think you really got this piece, because I called it "The Presents Under the Tree" because the thought of the presents under the tree was supposed to be a faint solace for freezing to death on the highway. The idea was supposed to warm the characters up, but like you said, there is no amount of presents that can change your mind. That's kind of spooky and interesting that you picked up on that! Interesting!