Stuck in the middle of another drift
The sledge looks lost without reindeer
As Father Christmas stands there
Looking over the roof
At firstly the smoke
Blowing off the next house
Choked out by the wind

Taxis turning into snowploughs
On the next road
Almost by magic
Out of total nowhere
And dogs morphing into wolves
Howling over and over
In the moonlight

Children in the nearby field
On the other side
Of the boarded up old station
Pleating each other
With firstly sticks
Pounding into flesh
Then snowballs,

Crunching through
Everybody’s coats
Like fists through
Broken conkers
Until they are left battered
Almost black and white
In the fading sunlight,

Vibrant in a featureless moment
Sharped with each move
From the frozen breeze
Over the top of the roof
Surfing each memory
Making him wishing
He’d had the time
To go and join in.

(Happy Christmas everybody!)