Christmas on my walk

Going for my usual walk -
my half hour of freedom -
I look for signs of this time of year
Something I might pick up
a specialness in the air.
Well, it's a glorious sunny day,
small hawks are hovering about
always alert.
Faithful watch dogs
are watching out for strangers
turning round and round
barking from their square of concrete ground
outside the master's mansion.
Down on the footpath
a woodlouse scuttles along
humbly minding its business.
It could be any day...


But there,
getting into the car
Not so happy people
off to visit some relative
because it's December 25th.
Tradition and religion
are just a burden they bear
their body language doesn't lie.
Here, a homeless guy
tries to sell Santa's hoods
to slightly impatient drivers
forced to wait for the green light.
On the windows, occasionally,
a baby Jesus with open arms
and an almost smug expression
competes with clumsy Santa
who is hanging
rather than climbing
the dirty building's wall.
Down the road
billboards announce
fabulous discounts
if only you're gullible enough...

And that's it,
That was Christmas on my walk:
weak gestures,
worn out symbols
lame excuses
and more useful objects
than there are uses.