shower of sparks.

The sun was hanging, lazy in the afternoon sky

Into the shower of sparks our upturned faces

Bared forearms dared the cold to bite.

Slow cadence of a comfortable walk inside.

When we weren’t looking an army of tomtens were dispatched.

Each to steal a ray, hide it under their hats

Warming their pates overnight.

In the light of a snuffed candle muffled in the horizon we rushed out

With balled fists, baby’s face pressed in to my shoulder.

Sharp breath, crumbled hopes of winter’s end

Bitter foe of the January night.

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