Christmas: Early Morning

The small boy moves
through deep snow
down dark streets alone
to the boulevard
through the cold
to the lights of the churchfront
past thick wood doors inside
to warmth and candles and
colors and incense and
mystery.

An usher coughs.
The belt of a coat
slaps against a wooden pew.
A baby in the back
cries, is huddled close
and rocked.

Patrick T. Reardon
written @1980

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