Christopher Hopkins writes

Summer and Christmas


On green wire twists
the candy cinders gleam.
Looking twice as big
through the fogged glass.

Running streaks,
down to the misted up finger daubs
of licit themes,
still evident to a beady waiting eye.

Three men in line with Mary and Jo behind,
a hot mirrored counter.
This scene tonight,
like a squinted nativity,
of sorts,
its happiness in the room and warmth.

Bobby’s Wind Street Chip Shop,
still opened twice a day no matter the time of year.
If it were summer or if it was Christmas.

Two seasons of home,
to the college traveler.
Summer and Christmas.
The Magi -- Henry Siddons Mowbray