Do the neighbours know?

By -
Night-shrugging the bags from my shoulders,
the worst part walking is the nearly home
but not —
when I turn the street corner 

and stranger, I am stilled
by the cascade of electric stars
across your garden trees,
turning my evening gingerbread

and this whole dark December 
to dotted lights. 


C. LJ Ireton, 2025 

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