Christmas Coach

Christmas Eve Night-time shift Number Eight Loop Crystal drift Bus a-humming Toasty warm Pulling over Waving arm She a mother Stroller too Baby bundle All in blue Tears were present Face was flushed Folding door would Groan when pushed. Can you help me But no cash Had to make A fearful dash. Boyfriend livid High on dope Jobless Christmas Little hope. “Come in Sweetheart Shut the door” All of this He’d seen before. Blanket tucked in Precious kiss Harvey whistling “What child is this?” Let her rest here Newfound friend Women’s shelter At the end.