Home for the Haunted Holiday

It is Christmas, not Halloween,
That’s the most haunted holiday,
The tree’s glittering ornaments,
A constellation of gravestones
Marking times, places and people
Long since gone, or freshly buried,
Every gathering attended
By hosts of invisible guests
Whispering their stories and songs,
Meals visited by the spirits
Of generations of women
Returning through their recipes
In flavours of ginger, cocoa,
Molasses, cinnamon and cloves.



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