Skating On Thin Ice

He stamps the ice beneath his feet Fallen leaves, gifted from the trees clinging to his soles Softening the thud of clumping boots Patterns shimmer in the fading light As he trudges up the path A reveller hoots Somebody laughs A drunk is haloed in the street lamp’s torpid glow Echoes of himself; of seasons long ago Surely the decorations were much brighter Surely the streets were full of singing Red robins; church bells gaily ringing Fragrant pine and holly Those were the seasons to be jolly Couples kissing ‘neath the mistletoe Santa bellowing: “Yo ho ho,” Of course there was proper snow Not damp and mist And rain It’s plain They’d got Christmas all wrong Again! His feet begin to glide On frost mimicking snow On his face a grin He sails through his gate Never too late to recapture The rapture...... Of an illicit skate