Christmas Eve at the Chinaman's

A perfect Christmas Eve

We stood on the beach that night
As the perfect snow fell
Just on cue, in big flufy flakes
Coating our hair and eyes.
Three small people, alone
In this great silent world
The air so quiet that you
Could hear the stars fall
If you listened.

The bare brown of the cabin walls
Looked small as they
Stood poised against the giant wall
Of ancient fir and cedar trees
That framed the edges of our clearing
Our lives became so interwoven
With that moment that
We almost didn't think to go back in
Into the almost dark of kerosene
And the smell of crackling fir
Beside our bunks, to wrap
Tight together under soft blue
Comforters from home
And wait.