ON THE NOELS

I was poking through the larder the other day on the sixth Noels.
I was thinking Christmassy thoughts, trying to keep the Season alive within me,
At the opposite side of the year.

It wasn’t easy; the heat without was oppressive
High summer
Humidity enough to flood the lungs, like breathing underwater

When dressed at all that day we were in swimsuits
Thumb over the end of the hose
Misting ourselves down on the porch
The wood hot enough to cook eggs
Metal surfaces too hot to even look comfortably at,
Nevermind touch.

Coming inside I scouted for food
Found a surprise.

There were four of them left
precious like curved scepters in a jeweled box I took one out
carefully peeled back the cellophane Intending to enjoy it myself, I found the need to break it in half when The Eggman entered the room his memory for such Christmas treats as long as mine


We stood at the window watching light play on the Otter Pond
It TASTED like Christmas
Tasted like a hundred happy memories
Like song and family and warm fires and colored lights
It tasted like Home.

We stood at the window, The Eggman and I
Tasting the cool of Christmastide
In the furnace of Summer.