Twins I guess

Wee urchins

In vest and pants

Barefoot at

Their front door.

Bare floor boards

A two bar fire

Father holding on

To what little

Remained.

Mother inebriated

And roaming.

No Christmas tree

No seasonal aromas

Just cheeky smiles

Matched with

Nervous abashment.

Their ‘eve’ day

Just like any other.