Poetry by Brian Billings
When we reach December,
the sounds begin to change.
The steady hum of daily life
moves to a higher range.
The beats become staccato
while chording starts to swell.
These are the sounds of Christmas I know well.
The Santas manning city blocks
collect the coins that clink.
Laughter spills from coffee shops
where good friends share a drink.
Bags of presents crinkle.
Chimes on front doors tinkle.
Swishing brooms push flakes away
where snow’s begun to sprinkle.
Cheery fires crackle
where families abide.
Wintry breezes howl and hiss
while lovers kiss inside.
There’s a fizz within the whiz
of shoppers all pell-mell.
These are the sounds of Christmas I know well.
An organ roaring “Allelu!”
will leave you feeling jolly; you
can hear good tidings when the rafters ring.
The glockenspiel and carillon
will help high spirits barrel on
when either instrument begins to sing.
The snap of bursting popcorn
locked in a box of glass.
The piping of a cardinal.
A greeting as you pass.
Not one of these dear novelties
is just a bagatelle.
These are the sounds of Christmas I know well.
Brian C. Billings is a professor of drama and English at Texas A&M University-Texarkana. His work has appeared in such journals as Ancient Paths, Antietam Review, The Bluebird Word, Confrontation, Evening Street Review, Glacial Hills Review, and Poems and Plays. Publishers for his scripts include Eldridge Publishing and Heuer Publishing.
