happy christmas, world
standing at the end of the pierwatching the cars
go over the causeway,
the soothing melody
of the black river waters
christmas is,
in and of itself,
nostalgia
teas and coffees
that smell like christmas,
that unmistakable
scent of christmas spices:
ginger and nutmeg,
cinnamon
i walk the streets lonely,
not even a snowflake
to caress my palm
"happy christmas, world"
my cheeks are not turned rosy red
by the winter winds
nor are the old christmas carols
hummed by every passerby
once in a while,
i see god in the river
submerged, i am the river
i am the calm,
the peace
i walk the streets lonely,
not even a snow flake
to caress my palm
"happy christmas, world"
12/3/12
Poetry by Thomas Perdue
Read 599 times
Written on 2012-12-16 at 02:42
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