A Christmas Eve Story

[BobBradshaw]

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.

[Michael (MV)]

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)

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.

[Kenneth2816]

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.

[BobBradshaw]

Michael, Ken — thank you for your comments. Much appreciated.