On Christmas

Sylvia Merrill Beaupré

We made memories,
except somewhere
snowman, snow fort, angels,
in the United States of America
the most innocent wings.
a Santa dressed to kill—
They were everywhere,
gun, flame thrower.
those angels.
                                   
He knocked on a door.

Among the angels—treetop angel,
Spying this favorite myth in person
snow angels, blessed angels,
a little girl
children everywhere
smiled and ran to open it.

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