Bethlehem

The churchyard is frozen

The Salvation Army is closing

Your child is dozing asleep

In the backseat

The radio purrs

The heater is sweeter than when your heart was hers

Going home



I can't get sleep

Bethlehem is a flock of sheep

With no shepherd to cling to

An angel to sing to

Magi to bring you myrrh

The radio purrs



A mansion of saviors

I-75 is a dark roadway lined

With the wild electricity of the

Animal behaviors

The bodies of young deer

The fam'ly it leads to

The sacrifice needs to not mar

The bright beacon star



No vacancy taken

The landscape is bone-chalk yet wet with vibrations

From the lamp-lit gas stations

Our few constellations

To course lapping anger onto

A manger of patience



I'll see you at morning

The sterile air coming

From the yard will come white light

The memory of last night

The sickness and thickness of the

Christmas glow swarming