Twas the night before Christmas

When starless darkness held the night

With howling wind and sleet;

All through the house was ne'er a light

Dark, and a door that creaked

And despite the fire, twas cold as snow

Only the low fire flicker

Could lend the room a ghostly glow

And light the undecked tree.

I crept towards the bottom stair

Mouse-still and watching

A creak, a silent shift of icy air

As a presence passed me by -

He stumbled 'neath his heavy load

But saw what we had left him

He drank, and then I thought he slowed

And tears on his wrinkled cheeks

Slipped cold; I think his mind was on the past:

How many years, quoth he, and drank

Sinking into the sofa, benumbed at last

His task forgot, still sinking...

Sinking - until all that I could mark

Was his hand

Reaching up towards the dark

Not waving

But

Craving

Peace