Like fireflies, the white stars burn through bones
of dark December trees. A wolf wind howls,
blows scraps of moon across the river. Stones
bleach silver in the midnight. Graveyard owls
cruise over houses islanded in snow.
The apparatus of the seasons swings
to winter solstice. Candle blossoms glow.
(The bell has tolled and tolled and still it rings.)
Now sings the carol, blooms the Christmas rose.
ornamented hemlocks spill their light
in houses where the children died of blows
on waters where the children entered Night.
Yet hush! They shall ascend. The angel's horn
announces once again: the Child is born.