The clock stroke twelve twenty days before the twenty-fourth, so I set up my heart for all that I was worth. Obscurity from the outside in seems to be the only thing we've been. I can hear the bells ringing far away, in the city where my love is at the bay. He's waiting on boat in the water with the reflections of lead lights... It's another deliciously cold winter night. Twelve more days, and it's tangible on my tongue. My room is a mess, I've got to get that done. Cybershopping and ice storms call it a match. We blame the cableman with an eyepatch. The kitchen is torrid hot, what'd we burn this time? The angel of thanks spent her time. Rest, work, breathe, pray, and repeat. The brink of Christmas is on it's knees. The ice stabbed the trees with it's spears. The sky flooded them with it's tears. The wind went to bed and we're all alone. Three days before Christmas comes undone. Tick and tock, shut up that clock. Already? Oh boy, here we go. Wrapping at the speed of light. Keeping gifts out of sight. The tree sings in all it's glory. We read a Christmas story. The fire burns yet protects us. The lights are out and we sing, "Oh life is wonderful. But Christmas makes it better. So let's just forget about the weather...Because the snow just hit 4 feet deep."
A Memory That Smells Like Pine Needles
December 4, 2008