What I like about Christmas

It’s that seasonal fruit I love
I’m finally peeling a mandarin
Each burst sweetens my breath
In the late hours before the morn’
Or is it the early hours, after dark?
When my stargazing has taken shut.
Still it’s quite cosmic, somehow
Staring at an expanse
Filled with twinkling buildings
And inner city streetlights
While sampling something I
have missed year round,
it is made all the better for it
that longing, that missing
I love the imprinted scent
of it all, under my fingernails
The oranges, the wash of oranges
While an impotent sun hangs
just under the horizon
As if to wait, just a little longer
Enjoying the view with me.
For soon, the oranges will turn
To whites and grays
And the twinkling will become
Excessively unnecessary
But I’ll still have my fruit to peel
And my need will be all the greater,
Then.

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