Christmas

Christmas.

Tipping back the cardboard cup
I drink the last of my hand-warming gingerbread latte
Starbucks' own Christmas indicator
Crumpling and tossing it in the bin
There goes the last semblance of warmth

Pulling down the hood of my Parka
I make a dash against the current of people
Streaming from shop to shop
Blinkered by the hoods fluffy brim
An Eskimo strides through the rain

Walking in the dazzle of the cosy delicatessen
I see dainty snack food in delicious colours
Well beyond the total of my pocket change
Looking back at the generous Saint-sized owner;
Christmas has passed me by.

My rain-filled plimsoll shoes squelch
I'm sodden and dry feet are a fetishistic dream
But tonight rain dissolves the pavement
Fallen leaves float on a dark pond
And I am walking on water.