I have noticed my holiday poems seem to focus on food. This one is about Christmas Eve dinner.

Christmas Cuisine

Sisters scurry
around the kitchen.
Shrimp sizzles
in the skillet
and linguini simmers
in the saucepan.
Scents of garlic,
lemon and butter
fill the air.
The transfer is made
from pans to plates.
Parsley flakes fall
on food and floor,
like the snow
that covers roads
on Christmas Eve.