When Dreams Feel Real:

A Christmas Story

 

When I was six, Santa came

in the darkened house as I slept

on the frontroom couch. He strolled

in the door and passed as I stared,

pretending to sleep as I watched

his velvet shimmer and his sack

shake with each ginger step.

When he looked for Eddie, asleep

in our bunk beds, I ran

to Mommy’s room and spilled

his secret. She snarled

and said, Go back to bed.

I did, but never forgot.