Christmas Zen #2

pickup loads of wood,
stray dog running beside the tracks...
young girl hauling a baby,
old coat pulled across her face.
somebody somewhere is crying,
the hands on the clock slowly crawl,
... bare Christmas trees in a parking lot.

& already a line at the soup kitchen,
the sound of bells, water dripping from a spicket...
old man in coveralls, selling...
pickup loads of wood.

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!