This is the day
When we don’t have visitors to the house
This is the day
Of so so very few interruptions
There are no letters or parcels
Although the days, and the weeks
Leading up to this day have been a riot
Of postmen, couriers, and delivery drivers
There are no telephone canvas calls
To tell us about the latest developments
In double glazing or broadband communication
Which could warm us up, or which could speed us up
This is the day
When the coloured lights glow for themselves
Where the music crosses with the liturgy
When the cooking just takes a little longer
There are cards, presents, annual gifts
Though not all are here to collect theirs
For they too are becalmed also
In their quiet houses, on this quiet day
