Advent Calendar Selection Box
In The Bleak Midwinter (post Dec 7)
watched
by the rich guarded
silence
of cotswold
farms
and a blinding sun
through bare trees
and the jagged saw
of a dog at the gate,
i wonder
what my pilgrimage
to an indian summer
half a world distant
taught me
about this old track
of unchanged england
wrapped up in compliments,
temporary as tinsel,
a feast that goes cold,
a santa that never
really delivers
as i slide
down my frozen hill
of ignorance
on slight city shoes
made in ahmednagar
towards
a painful wisdom.
Cranham, Glos. Christmas ’94
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