Christmas Day

Defying the sound-smothering effect of 
newfallen snow on the atmosphere
they could, nonetheless, be heard long
before coming into range, a shrill
orchestration of fun-anticipating voices
giddy with the monumental arrival of 
the day so long anticipated though it 
has been hours since opening Christmas 
gifts under a glittering tree. Here, in the 
forest, a different type of glitter entirely 
awaited their dazzled eyes. Led by a small
furry dog, ears flapping, tail a metronome
its own voice lifted as a contrapuntal chorus
in shrieking excitement at the shared
adventure, they advance on the tramped
trail thickly wadded with snow, afternoon 
sun sparkling on the snow padded tree 
branches, mild enough that a steady drip 
of melt anoints their toqued heads. They 
chatter brimming with energy, hauling sleds 
down the long snow-slick hill into the 
ravine where in encounters with succeeding 
hills they will imagine themselves to be
defying gravity, these children of winter
graduated in age and size all bubbling with 
laughter, two harried mothers stumbling 
along, bringing up the distant rear.