© 2007 Grace Cockburn

Christmas on Lower Yates Street
        …such as I have give I thee. Acts 3:6

Late afternoon, two days after Solstice;
and faith that Earth has turned safely light-ward
is still uncertain, especially on this street
where darkness is so much more.

Light hesitant and slowly dimming,
the street scene, like a stage flat, pivots:
shopkeepers lock up Christmas behind grilled doors,
the cast of winter homeless take their places,
await their cues.

Enter a mother and her three year old,
shopping finally finished, walking to their car.
The pavement set about with huddling forms,
the mother picks a path she hopes is out.

Enter a man with ravelled toque and raddled hair,
tattered wings of his coat flung wide,

and in his reaching hand
         a candy cane
and from his toothless mouth
         a question:
Can I give this to your little boy?

She hears herself say
         Thank you. Yes.
Between them
         something bright.

Three silhouettes
         part in the afterglow,
                  into their own lands.