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.
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.
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