Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The Moonlit Statues on a Winter's Eve (a Christmastide poem by an orthodox rebel)

"The criss-crossed frost can etch its way
Under shadow of the sky that escaped the day.

On the grim-cracked faces of the iron men
It covers o'er their fingers and fills each grin.

Ne'er ever was there an air so nice
As the night death-throes and the burning ice."

-Jon Vowell (c) 2010

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