The holidays are getting closer and my time is running faster.

I am cheating again.... Sorry for those who care.

He seems to me a fictional being,
a jackalope of sorts.
Purveyor and owner of all that he sees,
yet ever wandering
through the vast expanse of the ballroom.

Rotund
not unlike Santa Clause.
He has a glazed look upon his face,
as if,
like Santa,
he has eaten
too many cookies all at once.

It dawns on me
he doesn’t know what to do
or is he bored?
Seeming to be waiting,
for what?
His distinctive pacing
driving me insane.

‘Settle’ is all I can think
but of course
I am rendered
silent.
Merely an ant in the mines.

‘You created us,
to do what we are doing now
so that you might
do what you are doing now’
is my next thought.
Though I know that it is fruitless
how can an ant
tell Santa what to do,
when all Santa does
is wander
through empty ballrooms.

-Santa