The Empty Stocking

Every year, we decorate for the season.
And, each year, the stockings are hung.
Including his.

White, like an angel's wing,
His name etched in red,
Hung last, after all the others.

The brother and sister,
Theirs filled with goodies,
Yet, his hangs, untouched.

No candy, no stickers,
No crayons or markers,
It just hangs, empty.

He's not on Santa's list,
No presents under the tree,
Only the empty stocking.

And then comes Christmas morning.
Kids excitedly digging in to their stockings.
But, the empty one still hangs on the wall.

With heavy hearts, we tear open gifts,
Knowing some are missing,
And, stare at that empty stocking.

And, the season ends, the tree comes down
Decorations stored away for another year.
And with them, that empty stocking.

(For Ezra)
SMF
12-25-2013