Christmas#
the town is dead, in dying dreams
december trees with vying lights,
the timbered scenes that blink unseen
in eerie angles down the street.
on holidays, the graves of men
are warmer than the fallen world,
the sheets that form a shawl and tomb,
the keepers of the doomed and spring.
in dark the corpses grow and rot
in pockets kept beneath the snow.
although i wander to and fro,
the freeze that slows the world to stop,
it wraps around in glowing rings
the steeples pointing up to show
my heart is aimed like arrowed bow,
but lowered level to the ground
where pounding feet, in treks alone,
remember trees that grew back home.
December 2025
Date |
Publication |
Status |
|---|---|---|
January 24th, 2026 |
Blue River |
Pending |
January 24th, 2026 |
Macrame Literary Journal |
Pending |
February 16th, 2026 |
Ultramarine Literary Review |
Pending |