My mother at home in Nanticoke, Pennsylvania
Dust of the coal mines
on the window sill
lightened to gray
by a gentle snow,
our simple clapboard house
also freshened from within
by the exotic smell of oranges,
a seeming miracle
delivered only at the holidays
from some far off land,
an extravagant purchase
that triumphantly shouts
“Christmas” to us kids –
no coal in the stockings this year!