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Cerulean Light

                                                                                                        by Joan Pond

On Greenwich Avenue,
Fred festooned a fir with lights.
“Jesus,” he said. “It just ain’t right.
I bought this string at CVS
and it’s already broke.
This Christmas stuff’s for the birds.
Man, it’s a joke.
I got no wife and my whole life’s changed.”
But when I shook his hand,
the blue lights lit.
“Holy shit!” he said. “It’s a miracle.”
And we stood,
bathed in cerulean light.

                                                     Copyright © 1999 by Joan Pond, All rights reserved

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Read the Poem Of Every So Often at http://www.artvilla.com

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