Tomorrow, we will resume our regular programing, but for today–a poem. Christmas Morning Fallen leaves hushed by frost Collect along the edge of the sidewalk. An old man, formal in a fur-trimmed hat, Echoes “Merry Christmas” from the shelter of his front porch. Leaded glass stars sway a vintage greeting Below the archway of the Grand Dame on the corner. Christmas Day begins with the deep quiet that cloaks reverence Like a velvety blanket of falling snow. Slowly, the brilliant sunshine shortens the shadows And awakens a desperate sparrow’s song.