Advent II

Christmas poem

A Christmas poem

Advent II

The year the tree fell:
Little bits of brittle angels
all over the floor,
bent up boxes,
and torn paper.
I cut myself a dozen times
on sparkly slivers of broken balls.

The year the tree falls:
No pastoral night nativities
No gentle carpenter
hung on boards.
This time,
Advent comes on horseback
and the angels will be armed.

H. Edgar Hix

[a poem from Student Leadership journal]