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Progressive Dinner

With wide-eyed wonder, our five-year-old
Viewed the Christmas lights.

The common work-a-day of town
Had become wonderland by night.

Coaxing to see displays again,
We drove back around streets and shops,
Noticing that a gathering of cars
At another home had stopped.

Daddy remarked that it could be
Perhaps a progressive dinner.

Then on to see the lights some more,
Big displays or subtle glimmers.

A wistful mood fell on our son;
Then suddenly he chimed,
Itd sure be nice if we could have
One of those aggressive meals sometime.
The mood was altered whimsically
With a remark out of the blue,
And parents sardonically agreed,
It seems sometimes we do.

2010 Carol Morfitt

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