The storm, assertive and insistent,
will have covered all tracks made
for their arrival,
and I will have worked ten hours,
getting home too late
to celebrate.
And will they know,
as they drag and trudge, slow
against the burning wind,
the blades of snow,
past the pines and abandoned garlands,
now homeless and laying outside in surrender,
like intrusive guests,
that I still remember
with a joyous heart that still rings
in my chest,
to leave water our for the camels?
gypsywrites
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