The narrow line of houses sits quietly
along the darkened village streets.
Unassuming white candles flickering
at each empty window
perchance anyone may betray
how winter nights of Aquarius allay
the heat of holiday cheer and partying
while the broad city boulevards wore lights a twinkling
and the home’s hearth burned in forestall
of gifts to be given in bestow
of gold, frankincense and myrrh...
The stilled souls brace against the wind’s breath
taking close harbor in the arms of death.
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