Tis the season

From: rowdyladyrose@aol.com
Fri Dec 6 16:02:08 2002


Modern day Christ

a soft sigh, a glance stolen at a brightly, if garishly, lit up fir tree. another softer sigh, eyeing the lites flashing blue, green, yellow red in a light brighter than day. another sigh, heavy now, he went back into time, a memory of soft white swaddling cloth, the heavy scented warm breath of a lost stable. a time when troubles were yet to begin and modern ways not yet thought of, a shake of his head and he again went his way, still struggling, slightly mystified by the lights perhaps, but never giving up.

kcmo rose


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