In October
When the leaves are yellow and brown
And there is the slightest chill
But the weather is fickle
When the children parade around in their guises
They wish for the cover of eerie darkness
To show that they are brave
But the darkness of October is never sacred
Because in the trees there are lights of red and green
Luring the children to thoughts of wealth
Away from bravery or cowardice
Of trickery or fun
In November
When there is a bounty of food and friends
And a wintery breeze licks the face
And blow a soaring football slightly askew
The youths give thanks for their health
As they stretch their arms to catch that elusive ball
But it falls to the ground a distance away and they find themselves wanting
Because in every shop window is displayed the latest and greatest
And they become want of these things
Because in their great time of unknowing
They can trust something shiny and new to give them value that they can see
And hold, and touch
In December
When people in the North prepare for snow
And people in the South brace themselves against a wet wind
There is an atmosphere of friendly unfriendliness
Among merchants and patrons
Because everyone is trying to get somewhere
And the man rushes home, his arms full of brightly colored bags and boxes
And among all the weary decorations that he has seen every day for months
He feels numb and tired
And every shop window is demanding something of him
So that he will drag himself to his home depleted
And he is tired of hearing the bells toll for nothing
Because they have given him false hope one time too many
But when that man is in his house
Sitting among his family in the soft light of a browning tree
And everything smells of sugar and mint
When the bright paper is torn away
And thrown into a heap in the corner
Here, there is the true celebration
the true hope
Emily, age 15
