At this end

Burning the Old Year

Letters swallow themselves in seconds.

Notes friends tied to the doorknob,

transparent scarlet paper,

sizzle like moth wings,

marry the air.

So much of any year is flammable,

lists of vegetables, partial poems.

Orange swirling flame of days,

so little is a stone.

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,

an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.

I begin again with the smallest numbers.

Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,

only the things I didn’t do

crackle after the blazing dies.

— Naomi Shihab Nye

From Words Under The Words: Selected Poems

Sent with love

to december

this is a letter

to december

its chills and surprises

its hurry

its wait

to the longest month

the shortest days

to mittens and chocolate

cookies and nog

to long lines and tired feet

pine, fir

elves, angels

and fa la la la la

this is a story

a memory

a manger

a message

a blessing

a wish

wrapped in hope

tied with peace

sent with love

- drew myron

with thanks and a nod to This is a Letter by Rebecca Dunham

Wordful creation

The best thing about Christmas may be the mindfulness it brings.

Last week the Young Writers, a group of high school-age writers and adult mentors, exchanged gifts. The rules were simple: We each drew a name, and had one week to create a word gift for that person. We could create original poems, songs, letters . . . or share published pieces, or any other wordful creation that reminded us of the name we had drawn.

When we gathered to share our gifts, gratitude and pride circled the room. One student received a love poem, another a letter. One teen was given an inspirational message printed on fancy paper and presented as a scroll. Another a handmade card. A young woman gave me an artful acrostic of my name.

It is a powerful experience to receive a gift that someone had made purposefully for you. Both the giving and receiving require thoughtful consideration and contemplation. And that, really, is the best gift of all.

For the exchange, I drew the director of Seashore Family Literacy, who started the Young Writers Group many years ago. Here's the poem I gave to her:

Lost and Found

for Senitila, who knows

This morning

the young girl

wears a face

wounded by

words

with my arms

around her

I am wounded too

Tonight you call

say

I am lost

I want to tell you

I am lost too

all of us stumbling

hurt and bruised

I want to say

pack for a long trip

plot your way

but instead

we share

a map

worn from

distance and

drift

together

we study the

roads to find

our way

home

— Drew Myron

More Wishes

Earlier this week I called on my favorite writers: What books, I asked, do you hope to find under the tree? The wish lists rushed in. Books for everyone!

Judyth Hill — author of six books of poetry, and author-in-residence at Simple Choice Farm in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico — is bursting with books, wishes and wants:

• The Lacuna, by Barbara Kingsolver (she and Hill are featured at the San Miguel Writers' Conference in February)

• Divisadero by Michael Ondaatje

• Leaping Poetry by Robert Bly ("for the 100th time," jokes Judyth)

• Collected Prose of Paul Celan

• Posthumous Diary by Eugenio Montale

And, she adds, "the usual James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell, Stephen King bonbons!"

Bill Siverly — author of several poetry collections including the recently released Clearwater Way, and editor of Windfall: A Journal of Poetry of Place — says he has "way too many books already" but he'll make have room for Raymond Carver's short stories. "I've never read Carver, whose role in Pacific Northwest writing is considerable." Keeping with the Northwest theme, Siverly recommends three books by Robert Bringhurst who "brings a deep understanding and appreciation of Native American literature and literature in general, especially ancient literatures. A joy to read":

• A Story as Sharp as a Knife: The Classical Haida Mythtellers and Their World

• The Tree of Meaning: Language, Mind and Ecology

• Everywhere Being Is Dancing: Twenty Pieces of Thinking

Gail Waldstein, poet and author of To Quit This Calling: Firsthand Tales of a Pediatric Pathologist, offers her book list, along with a wish for more time to read:

• William Maxwell: Later Novels and Stories: The Château / So Long, See You Tomorrow by William Maxwell

• Too Much Happiness by Alice Munro

• Strike Sparks: Collected Poems 1980-2002 by Sharon Olds

• The New York Times Practical Guide to Practically Everything, Second Edition: The Essential Companion for Everyday Life by Amy D. and Peter W. Bernstein (editors)

Rick Schultze, author of the memoir When Movie Was A Band: The True Story of My Short Life as a Rhythm Guitar Player, is modest in his book requests:

• Ford County: Stories by John Grisham

• and "any new Carl Hiaasen books!"

Sage Cohen, author of Writing the Life Poetic: A Guide to Reading and Writing Poetry, is all business with her suggestions:

• Get Known Before the Book Deal by Christina Katz

• The Writer's Digest Guide to Query Letters by Wendy Burt-Thomas

• Book by Book: The Complete Guide to Creating Mother-Daughter Book Clubs by Cindy Hudson

What's on your wish list? Anything to add, expand, highlight, rewrite or delight? Please share your comments, suggestions and reviews here.

Wish List of Books

In this season of giving, the air is filled with urgent ads: Make it a sparkle Christmas, they say. But I say skip the baubles and hand me the books!

I'm not alone. I grilled a few of my favorite writers to see what books they hope to find under the tree. The responses arrived fast and fevered:

Rick Campbell calls himself an "accidental reader." As a professor at Florida A&M University, the director of Anhinga Press, and the author of three poetry books including Dixmont, he's got a full life and a robust reading list. He's reading a dozen books now, including Land of Amnesia by poet Joseph Bathanti; Impetuous Sleeper by poet Donald Morrill; and Chronicles by Bob Dylan. "I've been reading these books for about two years," he says, "except for The Travels of William Bartram, which I've been reading for 30." Despite the ambitious pile, he has his eye on two more:

• Stealing Fatima, a novel by poet/novelist Frank X. Gaspar

• News of the World, Philip Levine's latest book of poems

Kate Maloy, author of Every Last Cuckoo, has holiday hopes pinned on:

• Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel, a book about Henry VIII's consuming need for a male heir.

• True Confections by Katharine Weber, though it won't be released until January.

"And," she adds, "if I didn't already have it, I would want Karen Armstrong's The Case for God, which traces wildly varying philosophies and theologies form prehistoric times, including the shifting relationships between science and religion. Erudite and dense with scholarship but mesmerizing."

Liz Nakazawa, whose book Deer Drink the Moon: Poems of Oregon was chosen as one of 150 best books for the Oregon Sesquicentennial, has a few 2009 favorites that would make great gifts:

• Lit, a memoir by Mary Karr

• The Adaptable Man, a novel by Janet Frame

Mark Thalman, author of Catching the Limit, hopes to find five poetry books under the tree:

• Lights on a Ground of Darkness, An Evocation of a Place and Time, by Ted Kooser

• In Search of Small Gods, by Jim Harrison

• Another World Instead: The Early Poems of William Stafford, 1937-1947 by William Stafford, edited by Fred Marchant.

• Queen of a Rainy Country: Poems, by Linda Pastan

• Light from a Bullet Hole, New and Selected Poems 1950-2008, by Ralph Salisbury

With so many books, this list is just a start. Check back later this week for more wish lists from authors Sage Cohen, Bill Siverly, Rick Schultze, Gail Waldstein, and more.

Give me the words

I can't shake this song.

In a Manner of Speaking was originally written and recorded in the early 1980s by the experimental postpunk band Tuxedomoon. In 2004, Nouvelle Vague, a French band creating bossa nova covers of punk and new wave classics, reinterpreted the song with haunting vocals by Camille Dalmais.

Described as "moving poetry," the video is an artful blend of words, music and revision. You can also experience the original Tuxedomoon song here.

Book haze, laze, craze

Am I alone in my shopping haze? As in laze. As in behind the curve and calendar. As in Christmas is 2 weeks away and I have not one gift in hand.

It's not enthusiasm I lack, or even ideas. While I was hovered over my coffee cup in a feeble reach for heat, I lost track of days and deadlines and decisions.

My favorite gifts to give and get are books but this year even that path has come up short. Over the years, I've given all my faves: Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott; Refuge by Terry Tempest Williams; Comfort me with Apples by Ruth Reichl; Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner. (Forgive me, friends and family, for sending the same book to you again and again. My tracking has a faulty system — my memory). Last year, in a dreadful display of self-promotion, I even gifted my own book: Forecast: A Word-Art Collaboration.

I need new titles. Won't you help a harried shopper? What books are you giving this year? What books do you hope to receive?

More gifts

You know the saying: You can never be too rich, too thin . . . or have too many journals.

But it's gotta be one that fits just right. None of that precious, museum-quality leather for me. Or delicate pages that can't stand up to a rugged rant.

My favorite journals are the functional works of art found at Ex Libris Anonymous. For several years I've sung the praises of Jacob Deatherage and his knack for salvaging vintage toss-aways and turning them into blank books that inspire and amuse. He's got a brilliant blend of practicality and quirk. I can't get enough of these one-of-a-kind journals! (And mine take a beating, squeezed into luggage and exposed to weather, as you can see.)

These book journals make great gifts, and great keepers, too.

Gifts to give (and keep)

Susan Miller, astrology master of the universe, has strongly advised that I (well, not just me but Pisces worldwide) wrap up holiday shopping by December 9. That's just two days!

Given that Halloween seems like it was just last week, and that Thanksgiving came in a rush of gravy, I've really gotta get on the stick. In my consumer panic, I've gone keyboard crazy. In the last few days I've discovered some great treasures, and strangely they each have a writer/artist theme, making them great gifts to give — and keep!

Today's treasure combines my favorite things — words and art:

Portland, Oregon artist Trish Grantham paints directly on the pages of old books (a page from a 1935 Webster's Dictionary, for example, pictured here), to create layered pieces rich with history, texture and playfulness.

Using acrylic and watercolor paint, Grantham creates a cast of doe-eyed, anime-like people, animals and anthropomorphized objects (like a charming slice of bread).

Grantham's works are wonderfully original and affordable (paintings from $42; cards at $1.20) See her paintings here, and notecards here.

I've been to this party

At the Office Holiday Party

I can now confirm that I am not just fatter

than everyone I work with, but I'm also fatter

than all their spouses. Even the heavily bearded

bear in accounting has a lithe otter-like boyfriend.

When my co-workers brightly introduce me

as the "the funny one in the office," their spouses

give them a look which translates to, Well, duh,

then they both wait for me to say something funny.

A gaggle of models comes shrieking into the bar

to further punctuate why I sometimes hate living

in this city. They glitter, a shiny gang of scissors.

I don't know how to look like I'm not struggling.

Sometimes on the subway back to Queens,

I can tell who's staying on past the Lexington stop

because I have bought their shoes at Payless.

They are shoes that fool absolutely no one.

Everyone wore their special holiday party outfits.

It wasn't until I arrive at the bar that I realized

my special holiday party outfit was exactly the same

as the outfits worn by the restaurant's busboys.

While I'm standing in line for the bathroom,

another patron asks if I'm there to clean it.

— Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz

I am trimming my financial fat — otherwise known as slashing "unnecessary" luxuries from my life — when I find this poem. This gem is in the Winter edition of Rattle, the last issue in my subscription. I wasn't going to renew. Times are lean and I need to cut back, stand tall, carry on and every other recession-era platitude that eliminates fun and replaces it with function.

But then I read this poem. And turn the page and read another great poem. And another. I am glued to the journal, racing and retracing every word and absorbing poets I did not know and now want to (namely Alice Fulton, Molly Peacock and Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz).

Even the bio notes in the back feel insightful. Erik Campbell, author of a startling poignant poem about his father, writes:

"I read and write poetry to remind myself that I have a soul that needs a periodic tuneup."

That seals it. I am renewing my subscription. With balm like this, literary journals are elevated from really-want to must-have.