The turn off route 93 had been slight
This is what I remember of the night.
There had been no threadbare child’s strap to encase my dreams.
There had been no traveling movie…to allow normal to be sane.
I remember those star crusted memories as though, I could achieve, I could achieve, I could achieve.
After coming from nap time with Santa and no delivered good to be had.
Remember, remember, the polka dot, the low fashion, the plaid.
Adorable in strawberry blonde.
Cute with a nose like a knob.
These days I do not allow myself to be host.
Santa, with perception, can now be a ghost.