Shawn L. Bird

We’re going to wrap the outside tree.

Just round and round

says he,

but these are different colours

we should go up and down to mix,

she suggests too tentatively.

So now the tree is half one

half the other.

Divided territories,

instead of blended harmony.

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(Just a poem about what went on today as hubby and I put up the lights, and suddenly I’m reading it now and seeing it as a rather profound metaphor- also- where the heck did that rhyme come from? >shrug< Poetry, eh? It does its own thing!)

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