for JB
They were throwing snow off the rooftops all down Chippinghouse Road
when you turned the corner in you faux cat fur hat and muff, the one with the ears
stitched into the left hand side, and you were walking with a sunflower umbrella
held high and just a little bit behind your head so that your face caught the flakes
and it made it shine. It was 36 hours until Christmas and here came all the ghosts at once,
stepping along the pavement in foxtrots and quicksteps. Angels were singing
all of my dreams from the chimney stacks and attic windows. Every door on the street stood open
and people stood in the doorways singing Hosannahs at your coming. At your every step
down the ice polished pavement, I noticed your faux camel skin boots as the streetlights
bent in and formed a halo around us. A crescendo of tin thumped with sticks by children
rolled down the road and one by next but one the houses exploded. Tinsel lit the air.
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