Rushing The Season by Sarah Henry

Last Halloween,

a man wearing

a Santa costume

came to my porch

for trick-or-treating.

He had a big pack

on his shoulder.

The timing of his

visit surprised me.

It wasn’t close to

the merry season.

Happy Halloween!”

I greeted him

and offered a bar

of dark chocolate.

Thanks!” he said.

He took down

the pack and put

the treat away.

Rummaging, he

located something.

It was a snow globe

with a winter scene.

“Here’s your gift,”

the Santa explained.

He handed over

the snow globe.

The glass piece

must have come

from a store where

Christmas creep

had begun.

“How nice!”

I said, then shook

the flakes inside.

He closed the pack.

I watched him

arrange it neatly

on his shoulder.

The Santa said,

“I must hurry

on to distribute

gifts at homes

while calling out,

‘Merry Christmas!

Happy New Year!’”

He seemed thrilled

by the idea.

“You’re too early,”

I said, protesting.

“Not for America,

the land of malls!”

he replied. “Here,

we deck the halls

with merchandize

all through October!”

It wasn’t even

Thanksgiving;

the Santa meant

to cancel fall.

Sarah Henry is retired from a major newspaper. Her poems have appeared in over a hundred journals, including Founders Favourites, Jalmurra, Open Door Magazine and Trouvaille Review. She lives and writes in a small Pennsylvania town.

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