That night we dreamt of Christmas.
In the morning,
The mad rush
Of blankets kicked forward into
sunlight!
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The shades pulled up.
And seven o'clock sunshine
Touching every remote corner
In the crack of the floor molding,
Between the battered cookbooks on
the shelf,
Darting under mugs overturned
and a glove tossed casually on the floor.
The glint of a gilded wrapper!
"Look here! Look here!"
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Sublime Lines