So Much More

We gathered under one roof again
just before the turning of the year.
My children are home.

Christmas was late this year
according to some other calendar
for families sliced and divided by
another kind of love
and loss.

None of it matters when we laugh
and open our gifts with each other.

It is enough to sit around the table
with fresh and home made food
we picked up from farmers at the local market.
French bread and cheese,
chicken and potatoes,
eggs and butternut,
carrots and chocolate.

We are warm in the cold.
We are loved for who we are.
We are so much more together.