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Poems for Advent 17

for my son David


















Christmas Morning


This is a quiet morning

so quiet it needs

careful listening to


between the dark and light

a shuffle in warm corners

the rustle in the grass


and are they feet or fingers

wings

an eyelash soundless wink


and things will rise and clamour

from these stirrings later into

unmistakable noise and laughter


a small sense of what disturbs

the dawn we decorate

and celebrate the day


but now this is a quiet morning.


Jeff Guess




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