The scent of evergreens
Hushed by the whisper of fallen snowflakes;
Our memories lay frozen.
Spinal cords to our histories
Collect semi-frozen rain like dust.
A small boy sweeps window panes with the sleeve of a turtleneck.
Tongue sweeps across lips in anticipation,
You can taste happiness in the air
As dead sap drips from the wingtips of ornament angels.
Grandma’s cookies accentuate sounds of childish laughter,
High-pitched giggles which chase the sweet smell of lust
Drifting around the corners of an imagined territory.
The house dog wears last winter’s sweater
And watches spirits float silently past grieving widows.
Young children smile brighter than plastic stars,
Hoping for the next funeral to happen sooner.
Our spirituality rests peacefully in a commercialized grave.
Under the shade of gigantic rotting skeletons,
How-to books on selling souls wait to be unwrapped and placed on shelves.
It is fate and
free will which determines its use.
Destiny tempts the hand of “God”
To demonstrate judgment in winter solstice.
A lunar eclipse redder than blood
Struts across constellations in high-heels.
When her nuclear foot touches Earth,
Warheads streak across the blanket of night;
Fireworks in December are spectacular.
Souls shoot past the illusion of conclusion
And leave forget-me-not notes to dead men walking.
Game Over flashes across pimply faces,
Quarters aren’t needed.
Try again next time.
Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night.
edit on 20-12-2010 by prepared4truth because: title
edit on 20-12-2010 by prepared4truth because: