CHRISTMAS SHOPPING, FELLS POINT
(1622 THAMES STREET)
The year is low; the yesterdays you spent
Fall numbly, like the numbers on your list.
The least is hope, the promise you invent
Not here. Let everything exist:
In shoes and lanterns, crosses, grout, and brass,
A coin-encrusted sink, a biding throne
Of sundered mirrors, bling, and spackled glass,
Your beaming brings a whirl of scrap and stone
To life in light: the weary walls rejoice.
A greater gift can scarcely be conceived
But one that mends our shards and gives them voice:
Be merry, yes, but better, be relieved,
And rise, and laugh, and listen, lest you miss
Tomorrows no unlikelier than this.
One thought on ““It’s all a patchwork from above…””
I like your Shakespearean sonnet–and your new tradition-to-be! I like the “fall numbly” especially well, in part because of sense and sound but also because it threatens the iambics and is close to a spondee, which seems right there.