yuletide greeting

snuffed out candles,
black wreaths,
moldy food on display,
and the winter cold
escapes your bitter heart
and appears in shadows
that seem as determined
to gleam as they seem
certain to stay;
your winter's death,
a cause for much
dark celebration:
no more your vile bile
cast out upon Creation;
your last rattle of a breath,
a welcome hello,
as home now
can once again
really be one,
oh monster mine.

December 3, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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