In December

In December
tucked away in a cabin oh so small.
Where pillow fights were had
and play productions held
behind bunk bed posts.
Where sleeping against walls so thin,
rooms seemed hardly separate.
Where soup simmered slowly
till the dinner bell was wrung,
and we broke bread together
teaching the little one to share.
Where hearts were being broken,
wine bottles to be emptied,
while other hearts were filled
in the next room over.
Filled hearts of lovers beating,
warming them till morning sunrise.
In December.