Where My Dreams Are

A bit of doggerel for the season:

My Gift

It’s December, and I’m looking for snow

Outside the window there’s only dust

Powdered and blown

And red, not white, with violet sky

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Santa’s reindeer won’t ever clop on this roof

They’d gasp and crash and freeze out here

Where there’s no speck

of green, no leaves, no amber wheat

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Dusk, then night crawls up then over the window

Changing red to gray, hiding the grit

And now my gift

Appears, bright stars, glorious rainbow.

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Argh! this thing won’t let me format this the way I want.

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