Floor Seven and a Half by Claire Gerber

The view from floor seven and a half, was really quite unique

The symphony of car horns and faint music filled your ears

Christmas lights decorated the trees, blurring your vision

Growing up, Christmas had been your favorite holiday

You loved seeing your family, the ones that never visit

Even the overplayed, cheery music, made you smile

You had finally saved up to buy that silver necklace

Your mother always said she was better off without

The store only had a couple quarts of eggnog left,

The perfect size for everyone to have one glass

Nostalgia consumed your lungs as you inhaled

The city air smelled of smoke and pine trees

Your eyes glossed over with tears of sorrow

For there would be no Christmas this year

You wouldn't get to see your aged family

Won't get to hear old Christmas music

Your mother will never open her gift

The warm eggnog will soon expire

The smell of Christmas morning

Will forever stay a sad mystery

But not for the whole city

Only for the one person,

Who won’t be home

For Christmas

Because floor seven and a half, doesn’t have windows

The elevator in your sad, fourteen story apartment,

Doesn’t stop between floor seven and eight

Floor seven and a half does not exist

But for only a fraction of a second,

You saw the breathtaking view,

Of floor seven and a half

And simply wished,

You had seen it

Sooner.