Poems for Advent 19
Country Christmas Morning
Three trees on the broken hill's face
bare now for brown and rock
the road that winds out in ungraded
heat from half past five
silence on the wire fence-line
sheep that shelter in each other's shade
pool after pool
filled with the tricks of eye and light
a slow church bell for early Mass
like gunshot down the ranges
the small crush and crowd
of six or seven dust-baked farm cars
crows that chorus from a gravel gradient
- always the same for any birth.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Thank you to so many who have responded to the poems
and to those of you who have read them and come with me
on this journey that I know means so many different things
and is a time of both joy and hope, loneliness and sadness.
It has been a real 'blessing' to have had this connection with
you during this time of Advent.
Love and best wishes