christmas eve spies…

such clever
children
to
subtly suggest
that
the christmas tree
be situated
just
below
that old floor vent
a vent
that
from
the second floor
became
a perfect
christmas eve
observation post
for
viewing
those
unwrapped presents
too large
to
fit
beneath the tree
wagons
bikes
and
such
one merely needed
to pretend
that
sugar plums
were
dancing
before
silently
initiating
the night’s reconnaissance mission
a fool proof plan
until
secret agent mom
closed
the vent

 

underneath the christmas lights…

narrowing ally
burnt out lights hide the way out
death’s smell fills the air
hopes for christmas day are lost
with the cries of incoming

 

christmas eve…

 

aunt bea
said
christmas eve
was always
a time
of
preparation
she said
we aunts
were busy cooking
some
of
your grandmother’s
favorite recipes
well
all of us except
one aunt
whose
efforts
in the kitchen
were discouraged
by all
she always
wanted to cook
like the folks
she worked for
no
sweet potato pie
or
chitlins for her
no
it had to be something fancy
from
a new york
gourmet magazine
most times
it was still there
at
the end of dinner
even with an army
of
children
and
adults
to be fed
then came christmas day
presents were amassed
around the tree
and
after dinner
which
most of the nieces
and
nephew
believed
was
an eternity
we’d open presents
well
just a sampling
of what
your parents had bought
the
really
good stuff
to appease
your appetites
it was a time
of
laughter
and
a time to give thanks
for
surviving another year
but
foremost
it was
a statement
of
family pride
and
unity
something
lost
over the years
by
too many
in today’s society

 

with visions of surgarplums dancing…

with visions of surgarplums dancing

before you
go to bed
and
rest
your
weary head
why not
place a dream
beneath
the christmas tree
one
of love for all
wrapped
in a brightly colored
world of peace
where
fortunes
are shared
without
one
thought
of who
will have
the advantage
just
a sharing
of
pure grace

the creek is rising….

the creek is rising

the brown bag prophet
was warming his hands
christmas eve
by a trash barrel
in overlook park
he said
ever christmas
that poor fellow
over there
has the same wish
that the lies
that got him here
would be discovered
and his life
would magically
be as it was
even with
the magic
of christmas
and
words of truth
such things
will not
occur
for life’s lies
become embedded
in the minds of fools
and fools
become
part of
christmas future