I Like to Write Poems and Stories

The Dreary Days Of December

Wet and cold.

Like the Peapod driver when he comes to the door,

He's very, very helpful

But he almost forgot my coupons.

He DID forget to recycle the empty bags.

Oh, well, he's only a kid.

I was one once, too.

I now have food to eat.

And liquid to drink.

For a while.

But it gets dark

So blessed early.

I am waiting -

not for Christmas -

or for New Year's -

but for December 22nd.

THEN I will be happy,

A few minutes extra of light

Each and every day.

I can hardly wait!