on a silent winter's night

Tower Church bells sleep together, coated by thick ice seeping through an ancient crevice above. In the silence a reindeer taps an antler against the crystal window and exhales a deep frosty sigh like a 3 pack-a-day mine worker. I open the door for a closer look. It makes eye contact and does not look away, belching another sigh, looking a bit wobbly. Over its left cupped antler point beyond the snow drifts there's a faint red dot blinking near the snow powdered tree line in the moonless crisp night. Then you're not so famous, heh. My guess is Blitzen because I suffer from vertigo too, brother. From the light of the open cottage door I can see two ribbons of caked blood winding down to the right front hoof. Up close its deep belches smell like burnt rodent with a side order of rotten eggs fresh from my barn. It's only one o'clock, the Big Night is young, I fall to my knees wrapping the entire gauze roll round and round the damaged joint like an over-zealous cub scout. Chomping the scooped snow offer from my hands, antler jabbing my forehead waking me from my dream, he limps away into the night towards the red quasar. Moments later a warm solitary red star amongst countless white streaks across the belt of Orion.