I love this time of year. It brings up memories of childhood holidays. We went to school, and got home in the late afternoon. It was our time. Until dinner was served, we were outside riding bikes, playing in yards, socializing with other kids, and generally looking forward to magical Xmas mornings. We were the twilight children.
He watched the children playing in the street.
They wore Christmas sweaters
It was chilly in December,
and the day was ending.
Soon, the street would come alive
with Christmas lights,
and a parade of cars on the street
would pass by.
He faced another winter,
perhaps his last,
with an increasing excitement.
In his youth,
Christmas caused sleepless nights,
and anticipation,
and wonder and joy.
For a long time,
Christmas had become
just another holiday,
to remember past loss,
and past failure,
and a time for greedy people
and greedy salespeople.
He faced this twilight, however
with a renewed focus.
Something about the approaching winter
brought back the excitement of his youth.
The long stretch of years
was bending around on itself,
and twilight became the harbinger
of death and renewal.
He didn’t have many more Christmases
to be excited.
He knew that this twilight
was for the little boy
he once was.
He was, once again,
one of the twilight children,
and he meant to look forward
to the coming dawn. 
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