America is caroling at all hours of the day:
Babies hollering at the first site of light;
Little boys playing tackle on the playground
and young girls giggling as Grandpa tickles them.
The adolescent ones sing their way to the top of their class—
or to the bottom, whichever they may choose.
Adults hum the melody of motherhood
or fatherhood, or of the simplicity of being single
and living alone.
The older people sing the last words to their songs;
whether they be knitting, or sowing,
or seeing grandchildren go off to college
with dreams so loud they deafen the voices that say “never”.
These are all the carols of America.