Christmas Morning
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.
