By Katelyn Thomas

He calculates, frets.

Santa does not need to fit –

No math in magic.


This Christmas morning

nature tinseled the white pine

with layers of ice.



Empty cardboard box –

gift enough for the kitten.

No need for the mouse.



They are not ready

to pack their wonder away.

Santa still exists.


Rolling still cold dough

until it is thin as a dime.

Sugar cookie time.


Tinsel everything.

Even trash cans look festive.

Did we go too far?


Katelyn Thomas is a writer, poet and photographer who works in the children’s department of her local library. She spends her free time hiking, reading and watching her rambunctious hens cavorting in the sunlight. She has recently been published in or accepted by One Sentence Poems, Bones Journal, Failed Haiku, Ariel Chart and Califragile. You can find more of her work at

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