Tradition

Tradition is a strange thing

Each year, we adopt our Christmas ritual

But each year something is different

There were fewer brussel sprouts this time round

No harm in that.

We did not argue as much at the family quiz

In fact, we enjoyed it.

And did not even make our sister, the quizmaster, cry

Our ever-changing constant ritual

Far more diverse in its evolution than our daily lives

Stark, curious, mutating permanence

Each event, a Galapagos island

Galloping through life

Struggling through life,

Struggling to stay alive.

26.12.07