The sky burns,

Yet it feels cold.

Confusing wishes, ...

Old relics,

From this Christmas past,

Continue to adorn my mind. ...

Time eventually arrives,

When we’re not needed,

As in days gone by. ...

I like my world clean,

Organized and white.

But without colors,. ...

Big red nose,

Dry cracked skin,

Coarse braided hair, ...

Bright, spotless seashells,

Or rusty, dangling crowns,

Lurking in the background. ...

Today,

Yesterday’s foggy mess,

Makes a little sense. ...

In younger days,

I looked to the skies,

Wondering what awaited, ...

When snow,

Unexpectedly lands,

Even Santa can feel, ...

What was hidden,

I often craved to see.

For it was enigmatic, ...

There is so much,

I do not know.

How easy to lose myself, ...

“I will stand tall,

No matter what”,

A branch quietly said. ...

I can recall,

Many holiday seasons,

Filled with presents, ...

Stained outwardly,

Yet untroubled and free.

For what is worn, ...

Early in life,

A child met fear, and

Decided never to fly. ...

I do not know,

Who the heart,

On our window drew. ...

Christmas bags,

Filled with goodies.

Sweets and cookies, ...

A quiet sunrise,

Is my best time.

When colors gently awaken, ...

Sometimes,

In the mirror,

Only words are seen. ...

When the child is free,

And can happily be,

There are often,...