CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith and Life from a Place of Winter for the Years of Winter…
[A repeat from 12-14-14]
The lady down the street
has died, two weeks before
Christmas. Her children
are clearing out her
house.
They have thrown her
Christmas
tree along the curb,
still green, but on its
side,
in dirty snow, stripped
of its festive trimmings,
‘cept
for straggly tinsel, and
one
small, missed ornament,
a smiling angel, peeking
low, through branches that
will soon
turn brown.
John Robert McFarland
johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com
The “place of winter”
mentioned in the title line is Iron Mountain, in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula,
where life is defined by winter even in the summer! [This phrase is explained
in the post for March 20, 2014.]
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