When I made Santa Clause cry for the first time

It could have been the expiration date in my smile

Or the Charlie Brown Christmas tree

On the desk by my bed

He brought little blocks of wood

Shaped like

Pine trees

And Trains

And Snowmen

And he brought paints the nurses didn't want us to have

I asked him how close heaven was

To the North Pole

With all that white it had to be close

He said it wasn't far

Maybe a mile into the fog

I asked him if next year maybe I could visit

And then I wondered if that meant

Heaven was cold