To see the Star
where you are
near and far.
“Zat you?
Santy?”
“No, not me.”
A message
from Mary.
fir tree shadows
wet planet
atmosphere.
There is no list
like this
upon Santa’s
largesse lap.
The Star that turns
Christmas Blue
the hue of you.
Blues
for Christmas.
Baby, it’s cold.
the fallen leaves to fly
back up to the trees!
plants asleep
astonishingly
the cat goes out.
To hear what
what does not
make noise
silent sphere.
Wanna rock around
a well-lit tree
barefoot with thee.
Foggy morning snow
blur of yellow lights
across the street.
thru rear windows
to watch the night.
and comes back in
as white as snow
in the longest night.
To hold the star
in your hands
to warm
your fingers.
The Coming of the Toads 