Santa
The last of the believers has outgrown
stockings and keeps her own counsel,
hedging her bets, placing losses on ice.
Trees and trimmings, artificial candles;
part Charles Dickens and part Charles Darwin.
He's halfway up the wall of the house
that's opposite, looking like a cure
for constipation - winking and winking all night.
Does everyone think we're made of electric?
I don't care what you learnt in science.
December cracks and there's condensation
above the bed where I'm not sleeping.
The ceiling blackens, dreams are melting:
drip, drip, drip go the decorations.
You'll never capture the great shape-shifter
on a closed-circuit TV camera;
I spent years perfecting these stories.
School has a visit from celebrity culture
and she gets to meet a special person -
ten times better than visiting Santa.
The world gets paler every winter.
Lynn Dye
Wed 15th Dec 2010 16:25
I really like this too, Ray. Lots of very good lines. x