Under the Great Dome, neatly tucked in Stars, Fleetwood
& trees; chestnuts under flame, presents & smiles, glee, impatience,
with joys; mother cooking—turkey, ham, yams, stuffing, & more; pumpkin
pies, nibbling almonds, appeasing her appetite. Santa came, we know Santa, we
keep the secret. Little Epiphany, Baby Earl, they dance with excellence, &
sing with precision. I remember one gift, it took excellence, & one tree
those years ago. I never sung. I knew Santa was parents. I wasn’t granted much
fantasy. Kids parading a dozen gifts, a little entitled, trading, exchanging
praise & courage. Furnace & Frost. Sung soft into a sullen glee; under
a mistletoe, one kiss, aglow from eggnog. Santa’s eating, a little tipsy, one
gift in Santa’s bag. Stepfather is also cooking, mingling seasonings, creating
magic.
