London Poem: Day 130

25 December

Christmas Day sweeps in
And arrives without sound.
It’s here, and the first with you.
The day bends slowly, asking nothing,
And we let it come as slow as it wishes
Because we too move slowly.
Languid is the season with smiles
And endless drinks.
We’ve grown older and the stars
Have a different twinkle
Than before.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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