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.

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

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Lioness, outside The Garden

Boleyn in the storm