In-store Christmas
We plunge through
the sea-bright colours of towels,
bed linen and napery
then suddenly descend
into the Christmas Room.
We almost smell the resin
of newly cut fir
as we stand surveying
a Myer instant winter
of polymer snow, green festoons,
and red berries, stars flickering
in a night sky
through faux casements.
We move slowly taking
in the artful riot of gifts
to the accompaniment
of The Bells of Paradise
(but we did hear them ring)
played by a band of monkeys
revolving on the lid of a music box.
Evie Gordon
