Christmas, you sparkle.

From a distance you are enticing,

with your visions of lit-up trees

in snow covered woods.

Carol of bells playing over and over,

your season saturates the night.

Evenings become sad and mysterious

with their mix of childhood reminiscence

and disappointment.

Silver tinsel bells hung in doorways,

1960's party dresses,

black and white santas on video.

Cool morning light

and unwrapped presents

lined up under unlit trees on boxing day,

the silence of sipping coffee in a rocking chair.

You are Christmas.

You, who are silent with me,

and celebrating another year

of togetherness, and of separation.

All feasting and candles

and allusions of fireplaces on crispy walks,

you sparkle and crackle in my heart.

odd.

it's odd to be here

(in the in-between)

where the rush of stepping off

the cliff has passed

and the light of future falters

just an inch away

but i find that in this oddness

there is still dancing

there is still moonlight

and there is still celebrated colour

rabbit with a lame foot.

white in my back alley,

you run scatterbrained across my headlights.

scatterbrained with your red eyes and your lame foot.

i feel you eating at my heart and

i

can't

help

but

call out at the site of you.

all your cuteness and wildness captured

as you blend into the snow bank.

i want to carry you up in my arms

but your feral fright would keep me from you.

skin & summer.

in drifts of white

softening the crunch of tires

muffling the fall of mittens

that get lost,

in crisps of ice

hardening the rays of sun

melting only in short breaths

caught in speech,

in frosts of night

creaking across frigid floors

relief found in retreat back

under covers,

conjure summer -

light clothes whispering over warm skin

canvas runners

driving barefoot

the sweetness of honeycomb filling

the senses

prairies endless in their green golden glory and skies

and breathe in this country,

this life,

this constant remembering and looking forward

this fullness.