Snip cut sew

Red velvet glides beneath her shaking fingers

Through the machine it goes

Buttons are attached to a smart red coat

Gorgeous fur trim is added

Tears fall onto the new scarlet hood

An outfit born of necessity 

Tailored with loss and bittersweet remembrance

The reindeer shy away at first

Who is this? This isn’t Master

It isn’t, but soft hands and a kind voice

Sooth the creatures he once loved so

As she descends her first chimney on 

Shaking knees with a pounding heart

She slips

Pausing with baited breath she waits 

Who are you? You aren’t Santa Claus

No dear she smiles with cherry red cheeks and glossy eyes

She kneels down and holds out a pale plump hand

I’m Mrs. Claus, did you make these cookies all by yourself?