Working Family Christmas

Mary says she doesn’t know
and in a way I don’t care
there are lions and crosses

an old man wipes foreheads
by apoplexy he claims a vision
wandering with the other two

so baked in delirium
the donkey shivers for warmth
among contractions in a village

excised out of three candle tiers
splinters wrought by rough hands
nothing had felt so good in years

this exhaustion beyond
fevers to make the goat milk
in such a hurry the adze forgotten

fortitude enough to push them away
a worn cloth for wrapping
stumbling out of broken dreams

a baby’s fingers clasp

Walking Through Fences ASM & Cerberus Flying Island Books 2018