Christmas
Frosty the Snowman puts on his magical hat,
dancing, falling in love
over drifts and flakes and icicles.
We put on our magical hats of summer
and we fell in love;
even in July, your arms thrilled me
with the exhilarating chill of winter.
In summer, there was no snow,
only the heat of the St. Louis sun,
thick air, heavy sweat, melting asphalt.
Christmas trees smell acrid;
Christmas carols are like love songs.
Summertime swirls around me, always –
and we are frozen.
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