Waiting for Christmas

by Jane Hertenstein

At Christmas every light comes on,

in the basement where my daughter

home from college retrieves ice cream,

in the dining room a lamp illuminates

the abandoned puzzle, the laundry nook

dazzles, while the back porch radiates a

smoky incandescence, the TV flickers

a blue twilight, in the middle of the night

my heart pulses as I reflect. Soon

the house will be silent, the only light

the bulb above my reading chair.