SAINTHOOD
SAINTHOOD
I am on pins and needles.
It is almost that magical morning.
How ready I am to trick my son into thinking
a strange older gentleman has descended a chimney
which we don’t have,
eaten a plate of cookies,
and left him a Razor scooter
in exchange for being kind to strangers
and brushing his teeth before bed.
Oh, what glorious lengths we go to.