Christmas for George

If you are late to the Christmas Service

You might see George

Huddled in the dark

Beside the stairs to the door

But in your hurry

You probably won’t

And that’s just fine with George.

He comes every year for the songs

That are sung as Christmas Eve

Becomes Christmas Day,

For the music he hears then

Will quiet the train in his head–

The train whose clanking and rattling roar

Shreds every thought before it is grown.

The music of midnight Christmas Eve

Shifts that train to a distant track.

Its sound is not so loud.

It is drowned out by the songs,

The songs that bring a warmth

That has nothing to do with coats or fire.

When the first door opens at Service end

George scuttles quickly away

Deep into the darkness where no one looks

Down to where the garbage is kept.

While the people and their noise

Slowly fade into the distance

George tries hard to hold

In his head

The songs he has heard.

If he is lucky

He will sleep without dreams

Tonight

While the music hushes

All other sounds that trouble

His days.

If he is lucky

He will sleep tonight

In the quiet

Of Christmas peace.