A Walk On Christmas Eve Day

My boots crunch As I walk Across the frozen, bare woods With, but a few hints For what’s to come. No thunder, no lightning, no wind Predicts This, In winter, But I see and hear the tiny signs Like tsk tsk tsk From a squirrel Grinding its teeth Round and round Against the hat of an acorn To unlatch its meat. And then, From just above the trees, On this afternoon Of Christmas Eve, Snowflakes Suddenly storm And swoosh Like parachutes, Filling The bombarded air While gliding below To the clear. The confetti of snow Taps The leaves Crinkled On the ground, Sounding Like the sizzle of grease In a pan. My boot prints Come to life, Fingerprints brushed with powder, Tracing my way Back From the center of the forest To the red door of my house And its frost-cracked windows, Where just inside My Christmas tree Bends its branches To catch The push Of powdered snow From my shoulders. The tree shivers And glitters With tinker bells and green balls At the feel of Christmas snow Entangled On its needles For those few, precious seconds, Time enough to make a wish To the Star For the both of us.