It was Christmas

It was Christmas, and we were young, when the snow was deep and the lights were strung, along Stony hill, Allen and Main. And my uncle`s dead but he too would light up on a fifth of bourbon a day. And on Christmas eve would stand outside our front door singing carols with a smile on his face that lit up like a glow plug on a diesel. While inside the food was heaped in comfort and the sound of joy and jingle, and laughter and clink! as ice met glass and the liquor splashed and the holly hung with garland, and tinsel, and a phone on the wall with it`s curly cord stretched and closed behind a door, because I had a sister, and brother, and glass amber ashtrays in all the rooms because everyone smoked it seemed and everyone drank it seemed and everyone was young, except the old people who would say things like, it`s later than you think. Or, have some fruit cake it`s good. And over the years their wisdom`s been proven true... All but the fruit cake being good that is. It was Christmas, and we were young, when the snow was deep and the lights were strung, along Stony hill, Allen and Main.