On Christmas: A Sonnet

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On Christmas
I’m never sure which way to turn to singbefore the buzzing crowds of Christmas fansor even if a song is best to bringto greedy mouths and ever-grasping hands.It overwhelms the senses, giddy yetalarming, expansiveness abounding---the brotherhood of credit cards and debtthe tinsel-wrapped carols resounding.But when, at night, it gets quiet at lastand gifts are chosen, hidden till the day—the mania, the shopping frenzy past—I can hear it, humming my stress away.There is a peace. I think it sounds like snow.That peace. One gift I wish I could bestow.


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