| General Fiction posted November 17, 2017 |
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Remembering past Christmases
Fragile
by Heather Knight
So fragile...
The baubles
That Mum hung
From our silvery tree.
So fragile ...
The tinsel
That Dad
Took out of
That old cardboard box.
So fragile...
The colored flutes
We drank from
When the clock
Struck twelve.
So fragile...
The Nativity scene
Made of painted clay.
The sweet little Mary
In her sky blue robe.
So fragile...
My dreams
And my innocence.
My belief
The Three Kings
Would visit me.
So fragile...
Those past Christmases
Now populated by ghosts
That I cannot touch
Anymore...
So fragile...
The baubles
That Mum hung
From our silvery tree.
So fragile ...
The tinsel
That Dad
Took out of
That old cardboard box.
So fragile...
The colored flutes
We drank from
When the clock
Struck twelve.
So fragile...
The Nativity scene
Made of painted clay.
The sweet little Mary
In her sky blue robe.
So fragile...
My dreams
And my innocence.
My belief
The Three Kings
Would visit me.
So fragile...
Those past Christmases
Now populated by ghosts
That I cannot touch
Anymore...
 Recognized |
Club entry for the "2018" event in "Shout Outs to the Lord". Locate a writing club.
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