The wafting scent of fresh baked rolls
and butter smeared with care.
Turkey slices smothered in warm gravy
placed carefully in the tupperware.
A potato, baked, with sour creame
is the third item on my list
fourth comes a thermos of cider
then its out into the air thats brisk.
Scarf wrapped tightly round my neck
to cover from the biting chill
a full miles walk I have to go
for a single act of pure goodwill.
Laying there, his eyes shut tight
beneath a cardboard roof
blanket pulled up to his scruffy chin
I know he's dead, i need no proof.
Tupperware set down gently
beside a forever sleeping man
wipe away my single tear
"Merry Christmas, Sam..." |