The darkness of winter
soars through the home
biting screeching jingling bells
bells so loud so very loud.
trying to find a grip of something to cheer
something anything
a wish for just monday
Ghosts of Chrismas past echoing
a solo flute upon a mountain playing a sad song
Ghost of Christmas present echoing
the same
Ghost of Christmas Future ( )
No carols, no cookies, no warm family just this
the winter wind.
She is real as she bites
All poems of hope are veiled by darkness and salty rivers
trailing across bitten skin.
Photo by JR Korpa on Unsplash
