Christmas day morning

 

The ground is dusted
In seasonal white
Not covered just speckled
Like Grandma’s Christmas cookies
Topped with icing sugar.

The sun adds spots of golden
To the wood’s frozen floor,
and through the kitchen window
it shines a spotlight on the rising
morning coffee steam.

The neighbourhood Blue Jay
Is battling the sparrow for food
While the nervous squirrel
Finds another nut to burry
Before the real winter hits.

It’s Christmas day morning,
Away from the city,
Away from the rush,
Doing nothing but listening to
the fire crackling in the woodstove.

There’s anticipation in the air,
Is it the new year’s opportunities,
Or the calm the snow will bring?
But maybe it’s just gratitude
For spending Christmas peacefully.

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~ by spasmicallyperfect on December 25, 2006.

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