Christmas Angel
Once upon a time
he sang carols,
but now he chokes
on red-herring bones
and obscure meanings.
When he opens his mouth,
his tongue falls bleeding on the silver tray
encased in wood
passed round to collect the money.
His knees are dusty from lack of use.
What wooden doll’s head
rocks back and forth on his shoulders?
On Christmas Eve, a painted
clothes peg lies in a wicker cradle.
He swaddles it with birdsong
and hums forgotten words
to half-remembered tunes.
Christmas Angel can be found in
All About Angels.
rogermoorepoet 