Midnight Christmas
The low moaning of the old wooden stairs
almost woke my parents
as I slowly make my way to the living room.
The moon hangs high in the midnight sky,
peakingout from one corner of the heavy orange curtain.
Through an open window,
the faint sound of an owls hoot
travels to my ear.
I slowly tip-toe into the living room
where the twinkling lights gently glow,
reflecting off of the foil wrapping paper.
I run my fingers along the icy wall
and the blue paint is suddenly a pond,
frozen from the winters chill.
A cold breeze from the window no doubt
makes its way around the room,
pausing to wrap itself around my shivering body.
I turn on the space heater
and curl up on the couch,
where I fall asleep, enveloped in the winking lights
of the Christmas tree.
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