Working on Christmas Day

she was incredulous that I would work on Christmas Day,
justifiably, I was horrified that it crossed my mind
but I heard the ticking of the clock,the edge of the calendar
was curling at the edges, threatening to turn to 2014.
we took a photo of Bella with a bow on her head and I
sliced bananas on my new mandolin,
we ate waffles topped with blueberries, pecans and yogurt,
drenched in real maple syrup.
the trails were still icy, the foothills dark against
a brilliant blue sky,our breath hung in the air.
nothing so fine as waking from a long nap to
the smell of freshly baked apple pie, still warm
in my lap on the way to Christmas dinner with those
we love, to gorge ourselves in the holiday spirit.
preposterous to work on Christmas Day, sinful,
immoral, un-American, no matter the ticking clocks.
who would do such a thing?
not me.