It wasn’t the way the morning sun
would paint the snow on the cedar
windbreak pastel pink
that draws this memory’s heart
home in December.
Nor the way the aroma of Mother’s pastries
baking in the kitchen
and Grandmother’s welcome laughter
would wind throughout each room.
Nor even the way ancient, cherished decorations
would revive their beauty upon the branches
of some freshly anointed evergreen
Father cut from the pasture.
Rather, it was that one Christmas morning
seen through the eyes of a little boy.
How he’d left a snack for Santa,
and, upon waking, rushed barefoot
in his pajamas to stare in awe.
There was the half-eaten cookie
Santa’s fingers had held,
the empty buttermilk glass
his lips had touched–
proof positive of his angel-like passage,
the palpable sum of all goodness.
I was born on a farm in Kansas and attended Kansas University. After graduation I served overseas with the American Red Cross and later taught English at Emporia State University and was an info spec with the Johnson County Library. I belong to The Kansas Authors Club and The Writers Place and have served on the boards of directors with two literary magazines. I also was a prose editor for Kansas City Voices magazine. I'm now retired and write full time. My essays, short stories, poems and articles have appeared over a 40-year period in numerous periodicals. I blogged for several years on Scriggler and The Grant Journal and those posts were collected in a book. I have published six books to date representing every major genre. My work has won several literary awards and I'm represented by the Metamorphosis Literary Agency.