Another Poem. Season's Greetings!
This is the view from my window. What's yours—physically or emotionally?
Father Christmas Smiles Gray
The river, she is busy today.
Roiled and irritated
runs ahead of the storm,
a grab for the Gulf and warmer climes.
Dry leaves chatter, "Foul,"
to the southern blow.
"Make up your mind, it's December,
we've given all."
The neighbor's awkward palms
planted out of place,
wave their fronds
like silly schoolgirls—cry, "Bully."
Swaying on the banks,
naked cypress wag
lacy Spanish moss north or south
harlots to any passing gusts.
Red vinca hold fast their bed;
snap like a matador's cape,
"Bring it ON,"
they taunt the North wind.
Now tears of rain splash dance
cold across the surface.
Father Christmas Smiles Gray
in Southwest Louisiana.
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