strange behaviors

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  • Richard Conniff writes about behavior, in humans and other animals, on two, four, six, and eight legs, plus the occasional slither.

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Christmas 1940: My Father’s Poem

Posted by Richard Conniff on December 22, 2015


I found this poem by my father among his papers, after his death.  He had a seriously bad family life then, as a 20-year-old, and everybody also knew this might be the last peacetime Christmas before the U.S. entered World War II. Read it, be thankful for what peace we have, and have a Merry Christmas:

The beeswax lit and the holly hung,

And three kings on their knees;

The ancient hymns and the carols sung,

And snow in the branchy trees.

A whistling wind on the frozen ponds,

The moon on the mantled loam;

The canes on the scented balsam’s fronds:

The wise man turns him home.

                 –James C.G. Conniff, 12/18/40



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