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