30 December 2017
The Christmas tree stood
a touch lopsided
in the rowboat, the wavy
river rocked, gently,
like a hand a cradle.
Its light reflected,
and broke on the water,
a little storm of lights,
that broke against the boat.
The tree did not fear
the storm of lights,
though shadows cowered round
in need of being calmed.
Broke the lights
in dazzles of shivering
colors the waves grasped,
and threw across the dark water,
like a gift being unwrapped.
The shadows laughed. The lopsided
tree stood erect in the reflecting
river turning ever smoother,
as the waves, one by one,
fell asleep to the glow
of the light, the light.
Philip Kuepper
(24 December 2017)
