July Santa Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

He was sweltering in his suit of red, waiting at the curb.
A smiling Santa nabbed me in the merry month of July.
He was abandoned after a yard sale just across the street
With glance; I was captured by the winking of his eye.

I walked hesitantly to his position among the castaways.
The previous owner was still packing away saved objects.
I asked if it would be okay to take him; I offered a dollar…
'No, take him, ' she said. He is suffering from a few defects.

His only malady was that he had two slightly chipped fingers.
Black marker fixed the white plaster blemishes of his glove.
A friend stopped by yesterday and said, 'It’s not Christmas! '
I shrugged and told her of Santa’s dilemma and my act of love.

She thought that I had lost what was left of my limited senses.
Stars and stripes are waving, celebrating our Independence Day.
Santa is resting comfortably; safe from being discarded as trash.
He’ll be stored with the garland, to anticipate his winter holiday.

7/4/07