The whistling of father ,
The sniffle of mother,
The Screams of kids,
The squeak of dying pigs.
Icy hands on green leaves,
Little lights on fig trees,
Solemn songs humming,
Colored boxes humping.
Chunks of meat,
Bunch of beef,
Going round and round,
Meeting people of needs.
That time of the season is here,
Time to play and time to share,
Time to expect the old man on red,
Time to get the poor fed.
