Gerry thought about his letter to Santa for three days. Two days left, he realized – better get going or else. Or else what? Would Santa forget him? What if there were no letters from anyone? Gerry wondered. He got out paper and a crayon, but couldn’t get going. This is hard, he said aloud. He tried all day and the next and fell asleep, the blank paper on his bed. Two mornings later his mother woke him, his bed covered with presents instead of the blank paper. Merry Christmas, she announced. He’d dreamt the letter, but Christmas was real.
Bruce Levine is a 2019 Pushcart Prize Poetry nominee, a 2021 Spillwords Press Awards winner and the Featured Writer in WestWard Quarterly Summer 2021. Over three hundred of his works are published on over twenty-five on-line journals including Ariel Chart, Spillwords, Literary Yard; in over seventy print books including Tipton Poetry Journal, Halcyon Days and Founder’s Favourites and his shows have been produced in New York and around the country.