With a hammer we flattened 
the tops of soda bottles; 
                                                      with a nail,
pierced them through the middle. 
A loop of wire strung them 
into improvised chimes we 
could jangle. From house to
we took this itinerant music—voices 
singing off-key, moist breath
the frosty air: O come, O holy. Mostly,
people opened their doors to tuck 
                                                       a coin
or a sweet into our hands, 
before sending us on our way. 

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.