late December

another difficult year

nearly spent     

turbulent winds woke me at midnight

was that a runaway train I heard

or the roar of a 747 skimming our rooftop?

minute by minute, hour after hour—

as sleep eluded me, at last I turned on the light

burgundy ribbed tights, velvet pinafore

a single spotlight, the hushed crowd

8-year-old Allison steps up to the microphone

light pouring down from above

impossible to reckon from how far

this lovely December warmth

December’s midpoint

children ache for Christmas morn

still a really long time to wait!