A Christmas Eve Story
I slept in the attic
under the clatter of rain.
Whatever it was, something woke me
and I eased myself quietly
down the stairs.
There was nothing at the bottom
but a mess of shadows.
Then I saw him, a large man
snoring on the couch.
There were no presents on the floor,
but clearly he was Santa--
a man in a huge coat,
sighing in his sleep
as if the night shift
weighed heavily on him.
Years later, visiting my parents,
I still point to the sofa
and swear to everyone
that Santa slept here.
I'm 40 now but I still wonder
should I have woken him?
He was lights out--like Dad
when he gets home late--
exhausted as a burst pinata
but no doubt determined
once awake to set
all our gifts out.
I took one long last glance at him
and turned to retreat
up the stairs, the steps
squeaking like new
shoes.
A Christmas Eve Story
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- Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Re: A Christmas Eve Story
Bob,
Interesting how I hear the echoes of "It was the night before Christmas" bookending your Christmas eve narrative, and in the body, too.
^^ A linking to the old book without binding the contemporary to a relic.
And, Wordsworthian - the man meditating back upon his boyhood. Then that takes me to Robert Hayden's 1966 "Those Winter Sundays."
Lit like gifts appearing before me
Michael (MV)
Interesting how I hear the echoes of "It was the night before Christmas" bookending your Christmas eve narrative, and in the body, too.
^^ A linking to the old book without binding the contemporary to a relic.
And, Wordsworthian - the man meditating back upon his boyhood. Then that takes me to Robert Hayden's 1966 "Those Winter Sundays."
Lit like gifts appearing before me
Michael (MV)
BobBradshaw wrote: ↑22 Dec 2020, 23:46A Christmas Eve Story
I slept in the attic
under the clatter of rain.
Whatever it was, something woke me
and I eased myself quietly
down the stairs.
There was nothing at the bottom
but a mess of shadows.
Then I saw him, a large man
snoring on the couch.
There were no presents on the floor,
but clearly he was Santa--
a man in a huge coat,
sighing in his sleep
as if the night shift
weighed heavily on him.
Years later, visiting my parents,
I still point to the sofa
and swear to everyone
that Santa slept here.
I'm 40 now but I still wonder
should I have woken him?
He was lights out--like Dad
when he gets home late--
exhausted as a burst pinata
but no doubt determined
once awake to set
all our gifts out.
I took one long last glance at him
and turned to retreat
up the stairs, the steps
squeaking like new
shoes.
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- Posts: 1619
- Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
Re: A Christmas Eve Story
Bob not sure what you're going for here. It's pretty plain to my ear. I guess the mystery is who the man was or even if N actually saw a man. The last line is good, a hint maybe,at what was under the tree.
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- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: A Christmas Eve Story
Michael, Ken — thank you for your comments. Much appreciated.