Christmas Eve, 2005

By Radiance Angelina Petro

One December midnight, on the corner of Liberty and Main,

light snow falling on his shoulders–a man stood wearing full Highland

dress, near a street lamp, playing Amazing Grace on the bagpipes.

I remember thinking: “What the hell?” I walked a little faster.

He stood, staring somewhere far away, notes swirling notes swirling snow,

swirling breath, swirling time–expanding time, spiraling time over drones,

and drones under time, through the night.  I listened, snowflakes falling on my eyelashes—

Amazing Grace swirled over and over, each ending a beginning, a circle

in my chest. I listened until I started getting too cold.  There were presents

to put under the tree, stockings to stuff, I had an hour’s drive home.

I began turning away.  How he could stand the cold I don’t know.

What I do know is: never before, or since, have I ever been so found.