Christmas Recall

She waits patiently listening for
hurried hooves on rooftops with
bells softly jingling, but hears
the pounding of her neglected heart in
the frostiness of December’s air.

Her hands purple and chapped are placed
over a small fire she carefully keeps going
as she furiously rubs to generate feeling.

Through faint colors of red, green and
speckles of gold a surge of contentment
warms her insides as she harks back to
Christmas lights covering the curved
bushes in front of her childhood home,
a slight smile widens her serious face.

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply
the smells of peppermint, spice, pine and
cinnamon, scents reminiscent of family,
of moments savored.

Her fantasy is soon replaced by sounds
of gunshots, a dwindling fire shared in
a rusted barrel, city lights fading into the
darkness of an unfeeling night and the
stench of decaying garbage permeating
the infected air,
but like the magic of the season,
she holds on to a sliver of hope.