Yellow beams cut through frostbitten dark, A standoff of machines and myths. Santa lingers by the neon glow, Hands trembling, weighed with pasts unwrapped. The reindeer, blackened silhouettes— Antlers like fractures in the night. Tires chew through the brittle snow, A hum of engines replacing sleigh bells. In the diner’s hum, red light spills, Plastic cheer and grease-stained dreams. Tonight, the road doesn’t lead north, Only further away from home.