Cul de Sac Season

She sits on a faded brocade chair
brown age spots and blue veins
eyes clouded by cataracts
lace curtain pulled back.
Her house is on a cul de sac,
last one on the end curve.

Yard swings, long quiet
moved wistfully in summer winds
now shrouded in new-fallen snow.
Nearby holiday displays
draw a slow parade of cars
like moths drawn to light.

Cold drive-by strangers
slip past the lone dark house
her solitary reading lamp
turned off at seven
A Christmas Carol splayed open
on the wood planked floor.

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2 thoughts on “Cul de Sac Season

  1. C.L. Quigley July 2, 2015 / 9:02 pm

    Wow, Lillian, so unusual! This poem takes me to another time and space. The conflict of summer and A Christmas Carol is brilliant.

    Liked by 1 person

    • lillian July 2, 2015 / 9:10 pm

      So nice to see your comment over an evening glass of Chardonnay :). Thank you so much for the kind words. Truly appreciated!

      Liked by 1 person

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