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The Process
For me, poetry strikes like lightning. Fiction, on the other hand, is pure toil. Sometimes, it's the toil of really great sex. Sometimes it's more like playing solo tag with Dick Butkus wearing a Minnesota Vikings uniform and covered in hot dogs. Sometimes you just get Dick, you know?

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« the kingfisher | Main | Tinsel »

December 09, 2003

Christmas


Christmas and
snow cream...
ornaments made
with fabric
swatches
sequins, too...

Christmas and
mistletoe...
villages with
twinkling lights
sleep unaware
that you are gone

Christmas in
Texas
crusted brown
grass and a leaning
fence twisted
in figure 8s from the wind

Christmas and
the story
we will be reading
without you
the birth of a
savior sun king
old rituals infused
with the new

Christmas
Merry Christmas, momma...

Posted by rowan at December 09, 2003 05:08 PM

 
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