Lights of the Season

At six in the morning after a frosty night

the two east-facing windows

are patched with ice

and the neighbouring condo's security lights

make subdued blobs of stained glass

for my pleasure.

 

Through the west window

the lighted evergreen across the street,

dwarfed by its house,

kaleidoscopes through my sheer curtains

into shimmering colours.

 

In the evening we sit in the alcove

at the front of the house,

dimly lit by our Christmas lights

and unseen by the world,

and reflect.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2022 Ann Tudor
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