kilcullen bolero

 

december light

grey mist

pavements glistening with a touch of frost

shop windows glowing

passers by scurrying in scarves and coats

christmas close but not yet

poetry in the early onset of evening

little birds with their feathers fluffed for warmth

craggy doubters believing for once

coffee brewed to a froth

allison humming something about love

heaven and earth are closer than they appear

all the promises of god are true