Just in time

I look at my old house;
Naked walls with
Cracks as wide as my mother's smile
And sunken floor boards like dad's depression from the '90s
Is all that is left from its splendor.

I still remember the sweet smokey smell
From the wood burning in the fireplace
And my spot around Thanksgiving
And trying to catch Santa in the act during Christmas.

With a creek, the doors welcome me
And I know I returned home with a voice whispering;
You're just in time for Christmas

© Franklin J. Stadler