Icicles on the bridge fuelling expectation
Anticipation growing; boots unable to keep pace
Protesting, the wooden, icebound gate resisting our eagerness,
the icy path beckoning
We tumble past granny
A crackling fire throwing up magical sparks, illuminating a sea of parcels
Christmas Eve.
The spinster aunt emerges, smiling
Lovingly she removes his leather cap, earflaps first
Beaming innocence, he had not yet lost his way
The icing on the wholesome Christmas cake
this gift of giving
Two children, two suitcases filled with love
Laden, we trudge homeward, snow swirling in the lamplight.