Under skies of
Somber, dirty gray
Flakes of pure white
Dance their ballet.
Houses outlined,
In the long, black night,
By red and green
Spheres, twinkling bright.
While trees stand cold,
Dull, lifeless, and bare,
Pine trees are dressed
In warm Christmas flair.
As the year counts
Its last final days,
Voices rejoice
The Holy birthday.
Sickness precludes
Real-life embraces;
Kin gather in
Virtual spaces.
Winter’s severe,
Stark by all measure.
Harshness heightens
Beauty and treasure.
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