by Marianne Moore (1887-1972)

Saint Nicholas,

      might I, if you can find it, be given
a chameleon with tail
that curls like a watch spring; and vertical
on the body--including the face--pale
      tiger-stripes, about seven;
            (the melanin in the skin
            having been shaded from the sun by thin
                  bars; the spinal dome
                        beaded along the ridge
                  as if it were platinum)?

      If you can find no striped chameleon,
might I have a dress or suit--
I guess you have heard of it--of quiviut?
and to wear wtih it, a taslon shirt, the drip-dry fruit
      of research second to none;
            sewn, I hope, by Excello;
            as for buttons to keep down the collar-points, no.
                  The shirt could be white--
                        and be "worn before six,"
                  either in daylight or at night.

      But don't give me, if I can't have the dress,
a trip to Greenland, or grim
trip to the moon. The moon should come here. Let him
make the trip down, spread on my dark floor some dim
      marvel, and if a success
            that I stoop to pick up and wear,
            I could ask nothing more. A thing yet more rare,
                  though, and different,
                        would be this: Hans von Marées'
                  St. Hubert, kneeling with head bent,

      erect--in velvet and tense with restraint--
hand hanging down: the horse, free.
Not the original, of course. Give me
a postcard of the scene--huntsman and divinity--
      hunt-mad Hubert startled into a saint
            by a stag with a Figure entwined.
            But why tell you what you must have divined?
                  Saint Nicholas, O Santa Claus,
                        would it not be the most
                  prized gift that ever was?


Read More Poetry: Complete Poems, Marianne Moore, 1967, MacMillan Publishing reprint 1981.


Christmas Poems
Home


Complete Poems