We Are Walking Christmas Trees

October 8, 2009
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Evening sun shines light stripes on my desk,
Through the tabs of my pop can trash.

I thread this light,
Like you would a needle,
Through the eye of the nearest pop tab.

A second can will serve as spool
For this end of thread
Lying golden on my desk.

I close my eyes to think,
I open my eyes to see,
I take a deep breath to breathe

I sew this golden light through my knuckles,
I sew this golden light threw my palms,
I sew this golden light up my wrists and arms,
And I sew this golden light ‘round my tongue.

Now, I just need to wait,
For the sun to turn itself off.

Then I will flicker up,
A bright Christmas tree in warm June

(Thread will fall from the cracks in my grin
And light up this dark room).

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