Already?

After-hours at the Fenwick christmas window.

They are not puppeteers but still
they control where we look. Stringless
we are manhandled.

We only tell a small part in a tale; rock
back and back, smile on an oversized
bridge, chase an ill-proportioned mouse around a lamp.

They are trying not to be seen here;
they wear black, and black shoes.
They do not look at you who looks at them.