Monday, January 03, 2011

Dead Christmas trees run down the street
Footprints crease the ice and sleet
Laughter sounds out to the night
Mouths wide open, eyes shine bright
Pine needles cling to hair bleached white
And wild mane, dark as night
Midnight gone and long forgotten
When glasses clinked and coats were brought in
To a moment one could not forget
A time when you felt infinite.

Meg Cusack, age 18