Emilio DeGrazia
It’s quiet where I sit staring out.
A car turns the corner and is gone,
Carting axels, rivets and oil
To the wide plains of carelessness.
Here, in this solitude, renewal ages
Comfortably within sight of the tree
Cut from another winter of our discontent
Frozen into another new year of war.
Peace on earth roosts and broods here,
The few of us permitted this quiet
The overwhelming majority self-consoled,
Hands useless in our laps, hearts voting yes.
Filed under: Christmas, Holiday, Poets n Poems |
Hans Howe 
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