First Christmas

One whole year's

time emptied

Like lace leaves

 

From the cold trees

Skeletal wisps

You are missing 

attic tinsel 

 

Boxed deep and dusting

With bristles flaking

From the broken spine

So no silver lines 

Our crisp, black-branched pine.

bereavementChristmasgrandfathergrieflosslove

◄ December Bones

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message