avatarAlison McBain

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Abstract

ferral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="ff48">Children wailing, smoke cuts through the knife of air. Fires burning — Red, everywhere.</p><p id="c4cd">An empty field, the blood of sap on gleaming blades. Freezing bodies — Sunlight fades.</p><p id="3989">Near the end, the tolling bell brings us home. A sleepless night — They wait alone…</p><p id="9970">…until the night has pas

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sed. Come morning, Merry Christmas.</p><figure id="94de"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*PXkMXNsBOZsT4Zt4"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@thandyung?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Thandy Yung</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></article></body>

The End of Seasons

An unexpected holiday poem

Photo by Dave Michuda on Unsplash

Children wailing, smoke cuts through the knife of air. Fires burning — Red, everywhere.

An empty field, the blood of sap on gleaming blades. Freezing bodies — Sunlight fades.

Near the end, the tolling bell brings us home. A sleepless night — They wait alone…

…until the night has passed. Come morning, Merry Christmas.

Photo by Thandy Yung on Unsplash
Christmas
Poem
Poetry
Holidays
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