The hundredth anniversary. Disney
lures the children to the rink
in their satin pinks and creams. Buy an angel
on a stick. Mickey Mouse inflatables
only a tenner. Parents trudging
from the car park. Bambi lying dead beneath
the Christmas crowds. Dreams packaged in silver stars.
You see, it’s not the traffic that is far too loud
for hollow carols. You can’t blame the band.
It’s just the eerie silence of deserted fairyland.
And if you're having a Kindle Christmas - try my new book of grown-up poems.