Cold wakes me,
I swing my
legs over
The edge of
the bed
And shiver
When my bare
feet touch
The cold
floor.
I stagger
along the corridor
I glance out
of the kitchen window
And see why
The god of Christmas
cards
woke me early.
A bright crescent
moon
Shines in a blue-black
sky
Above the
lights across the valley
A bright necklace
strung along the ridge
Red warning
lights
On cranes
and towers
Yellow lights
shining through the windows
Of the flats
Of those up
late or rising early
A little later,
now washed and brushed,
I look out
of the kitchen window again
The moon has
almost faded all away
The sun is
rising again
Over a frosted
metropolis
To wish
winter good morning’
‘Old friend
I’ve come to
show you
The beginning
of your end.’
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