Chrimmis

Midnight air
Flowing with the scent of pine.
A rapid language,
You can’t quite place.
Selling pagan symbols,
On Essex street.
Living in a minivan,
Through the holiday season.
Ice in sidewalk cracks
A dirt crystal dusting
Drinking ginger bread lattes
Clutching paper bags filled with bright tissue paper
Quickly clacking boots
Stutter on the street
Above hangs a mesh wire heaven
Of bright light bulbs
And flickering tinsel
Snow flakes and seasons pc greetings.