the child fills the trailer
of her toy truck.
Packaging the cold ground meat,
my hand turns numb.
Netted tight & stacked
by the American Legion,
the unsold firs.
A barn cat by the compost
hisses in defense of eggshells.
The creek at dusk:
doves crowd in to drink
from the dark water.
Christmas Eve, & sleep’s in short supply
as sleet ticks on the windows.
6 Replies to “Provision”
Love the barn cat. May she find all the eggshells she needs.
I think she got some venison scraps today — and tomorrow there will be a couple of soup bones.
Very nice. Merry Christmas, Dave.
Ah, all those unsold firs, what will become of them? Merry Christmas, Dave.
Thanks, Leslee and Robin! Merry Christmas to all. (See today’s post.)