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Poetry / The Christmas Fire

is burning
warming cold feet
illuminating experience-burned faces
hearts and hands interlocked in joy
at the having of something recently fleeting
We all bring what we can
Food and drink are passed
But don’t stay long in one’s hands alone
Sharing here is mandatory
the cold wind blows around
as the sun dips below the lightened horizon
whose inevitable darkening
automatically signals the fear of not knowing
But not tonight.
At least not for now.
Here, the cold wind doesn’t cut below
the train tracks above,
often.

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Reviews

December 28, 2008

plummouthsong

No. of Reviews	Overall Quality	Comment Followup
15	81.8% (11 votes)	27.1%

REVIEW QUALITY: 100.0%(1 vote ) personal info reviewer stats

Age	Gender	Location	Last Login
19	F	Jacksonville, FL	August 05

plummouthsong reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

i like this. i like your succint(sp) use of language. you take a subject that could easily be cliched into having some sort of moral and you just tell the truth. My only criticism really is that you make it clearer what the setting is within the poem. i didnt know about the people gathered under the train overpass until i read the note. you said it was raw, so basically i’m just saying to give it another once over.