a cold little girl could not go home
for she could not sell any matches
on a cold little corner she curled up alone
from a day of rejections
lo around midnight she thought to keep warm
she could light up a match on a spout
a big glowing oven she stretched out her toes
then the light of the match fizzled out
the fantasy beckoned ignited the second
the glow cast through a stone wall
she could see the baked ham all the cakes and the jams
and its all beyond reach for the girl
as the light flickers out it's just snow in her mouth
but she catches a slow falling star
remembers her grandma a myth about death
and lights up the third little torch
a horse sleigh arrives she’s swept up inside
and whisked to a cozy chateau
a wreath on the door as she reaches the door
it dissolves like the visions before
match number four the cabin door opens
there’s presents piled under the tree
the lights become stars her grandmother’s voice
says child come home to me
barely alive with match number five
along with the last six and seven
the light was so warm her grandmother’s arms
could reach down and lift her to heaven