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.