christmas lights

a string of lights
tacked crookedly along
the roof of the porch,
is bright with blue
and white bulbs. one
or two, and sometimes
three may blink on their
own free will, and in
the yard is a plastic
santa, fat, and pink
with a white beard
and a faded red costume
that has seen too many
rains and snowstorms
from winter's past.
a cinder block from
behind hold's him
steady. the sleigh
and reindeer are missing
this year, still in
the garage.
but there they are,
santa and the lights
behind the picket fence,
behind the dirt lawn,
in front of the window
where a child leans
his elbows on the sill
and waits with magical
wonder for it all to
happen.