Delicate as December
By George Yatchisin
You don’t have to be too old to remember
be-spectacled Santa in Carpinteria,
his back to the sea, gazing continentally
towards all the work he had to do.
Of course we would all fly highway-fast by,
or just ignore him—take in sunsets, a warmer
red than his cap, more like the oranges
suddenly ripe ornaments on their trees.
So much of the world sighs into its boots
and parkas as the calendar blows its bitter wind.
Yet we at worst have to slightly swerve our way
home, around the tree suddenly planted
mid-State Street, sort of for the season,
sort of a narrow umbrella of pine and lights,
sort of an assertion we take our trees seriously,
especially given these have no leaves to lose.
Originally published in the Winter 2019 issue of Santa Barbara Seasons Magazine.