Certainly, no words remain to describe
A strip of paint could serve just as well for the first line
I’ll leave a space for anyone else to tell of the ever present

 
Darkness

 
But let them use the best cliches,
for this is the darkest night
of the year.
 

Fire!
Cinnamon,
peppermint, and ginger.
Lights on trees, fuzzy socks.
You cannot take the cold out of this dark,
but let us warm up,

and not just our toes but
our souls with spiced, mulled, wine
of friendship, family,
and Hallmark movies with happy endings,

but do suspend your disbelief-
Their finally accepting Santa is
an irksome way to soothe,

for in a world where presents appear
from no parental help,
who wouldn’t, in the first place, assume the saint’s life?

And so I can’t believe, for they
can’t not.

Still, we tell ourselves that naïve, innocent babes
are actually the ones who’ve got it right-

We cannot take the dark out of the cold,
so we just call it light,

and ever we stay numb.