Dressing the tree
At midnight, I admired the beaded blue spiral
of Christmas tree
as a light-dancing sparkle of ice,
without the sting of cold.
without the sting of cold.
By morning, the high silver star
was lined with lace too, shimmering
from a spider with angel aspirations
who climbed, inspired, in the warm.
C. LJ Ireton, 2025
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