He watches Christmas films in February
as popcorn sprinkles his pyjamas
like the first proper snowfall he saw this year.
His mum cut through the living room wall
with a multi tool today, revealing space for a fireplace.
“Santa can use that this year,” he said
peeking up the hole, desperate to see black boots.
When his nose goes red on a cold walk to school
he calls himself Rudolph and goes faster on his scooter.
Every day he counts down his days,
unaware he’s wishing away the few I have left
to watch him watch Christmas films in February.

Carl Burkitt 2025