Afternoon darkness cloaks
 the road.  The school bus,
 late, puffs up the hill.
 Its stop signs shoot 
 out, left and right,
 as it stands still.
  
 Scarlet paddles open, glow
 on pumpkin coach, not
 yellow school bus,
 as small dark shadows,
 fearing nothing, leap
 into the piled up snow.
  
 Towards a string of diamond lights
 each cluster marking someone’s house,
 a band of spirits twirl and dance.
 They call like birds in their delight
 as lit up firs show them the way 
 and reindeer on a rooftop prance.