A poem from the days of yore

I wrote this poem in eighth grade and Faith's excitement over a real Christmas tree and its smell reminded me of it. It's a nice bit of nostalgia, both in what I remember of writing it and of the grade-specific things I talk about in it...

when i wake up in december, the first thing i am aware of is the scent of the christmas tree.
when my eyelids are pressed against my eyeballs
and my body is pressed against my mattress,
i can smell the christmas tree in the living room. i imagine that i can also smell the ice-and-feet smell of an ice skating rink. i hear the hardness of ice skates hitting the ice. i remember the warmth of pajamas on christmas morning.
i think of the day happening. i will wear a santa claus hat today.
i will complain about how cold it is when i have to change for p.e.
i will eat my lunch. i will look forward to getting my braces off.
i will mentally go through my list of presents to buy still.
but first i will untie sleep and gravity from myself and get out of bed. i will eat breakfast and imagine a white christmas. i will be happy and look forward to vacation.
how is now different from other times of the year? why am i happier in december? i can feel the difference in christmas songs, cold weather, candlelit services at church. counting christmas trees in windows, the band concert, going to see the Nutcracker. wishing people a nice vacation, hot chocolate, something always baking in the kitchen. the smell of a christmas tree first thing in the morning...


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