On a Sunday Morning Near Christmas

from the Christmas tree, image © the author

Lights gleam in white and red
Inside a thick-flocked Christmas tree
Replete with childhood angels,
New stuffed llamas, brightly painted bird;
White window panes frame distant trees
That fade beneath low clouds;
Still falling snow glows cold
Above the piles of pale grass,
Both luminous in midday dusk.
But in the winter’s morning here indoors,
A quiet violin plays summer —
The Lark Ascending from an old cell phone
Left lying on a…

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