Small Poem at Christmas
Christmas has finally come,
the Christ child born,
the angels bending down
with ear-horns to hear.
My daughter comes bearing a gift.
She has traveled far,
like a shepherdess keeping watch.
I was sleeping here.
She arrived at dawn
in sight of the red brick house,
food on the table
and, after eating and yawns,
a nap in a bed once was hers.
Once again, come home.