Today wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Snow still swirls in chilly gusts of wind
And icicles still form on all the shingles,
There’s something else that’s different though.
The day is December 25th,
But no lights twinkle on the trees or in the yard.
Instead the gutters glisten with crimson ice-melt,
And fake snow drips red on the stairs.
Everything is quiet and still,
Even the air outside is straining to hear
The slight ringing of sleigh bells leaving the hills,
So warily I go to look,
All the cookies are gone and he drank the milk.