The Christmas Lights

A poem about waiting

Driving past the illuminated houses

Reds, blues, and greens twinkle brightly

I hold his hand as we admire their beauty.

We pick out our favorites on this cold clear night.

We sing along happily to Rudolph and Santa Baby.

As the giant snowmen and reindeer guide our path.

I know I shouldn’t but I glance behind me.

At the empty dark back seat.

I can almost see you in your car seat.

I imagine you smiling at all the lights.

Maybe singing along with us to the radio.

Or maybe the car ride would have lulled you to sleep.

I can imagine you so vividly it’s hard to believe

that you don’t yet exist.

As I squeeze his hand tighter he smiles

and kisses my cheek.

But I wonder if he ever worries too

that many Christmases from now

It will still be just the two of us

looking at the Christmas lights.

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