That Night Poem by Poet Dragon

In the darkness we gather,
scorning the moonlight and the streets.
Carrying our burden,
we make our way to the high school,
behind the houses.
Then duck one by one into the wash
like shadows spilling
up the sandy, tree lined waterway...
walking and laughing.
Nearly two miles later we climb out
crawling through bamboo
Staring at the shadow of the house
reading the warning
that says, 'This house is not for sale! '
Backpacks are opened,
their contents are dispersed with glee.
Taking two rolls each,
we begin to decorate in liberal white.
Soft tendencies unwind.
We wrap them around the chimney,
and into the tree leaves.
Fifteen minutes in the quiet darkness
changes the landscape
into the illusion of winter and Christmas
with the white snow
and big boxes, gift wrapped, with a bow.
Running back together,
giggling children playing in the river,
sneaking back into bed,
whispering excitedly about our adventures.
Until tomorrow,
we drive by the house on the way to school,
finding to our dismay,
that the hose brings down two-ply in a jiffy.