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.