That Christmas Eve . . .

White crystalline flakes
cascade from dark skies
falling, drifting quietly,
upon the rural scene.

A lowly ass plods slowly
pulled forward by a bearded man.
They lean forward,
tandem force against the wind.

The young woman huddles, sways,
shifted side to side by the animal’s gait.
Feeling movement from within,
she burrows into her woolen shawl.

Talons sunk in frozen bark
feathered body blending into frigid tree,
the snowy owl stares steadily
at the slow motion scene,

watches the couple disappear
over the hill beyond,
unaware, in the darkness,
of the Light that is to come.


Photo in public domain.  Poetic license taken (beyond the traditional story).

4 thoughts on “That Christmas Eve . . .

  1. kaykuala (@hankkaykuala) December 25, 2016 / 5:46 am

    Watched by the owl they appeared to be walking steadily perhaps until daybreak. Wonder what had happened? Wonderful wordcraft Lillian!


    Liked by 1 person

    • lillian December 31, 2016 / 9:58 am

      Thank you, Hank. Much appreciated are your kind words.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s