Crows freeze in mid-flight
And hang there
Like fire damaged decorations.
In longboats farmers
Glide out to fodder
Tossing ballast with steel pronged
Oars to a pod of cattle
Bugling steam into the evening.
Along Broderick's hillcrest
A tribe of stooping pine
File east slower than Artic thaw
While daylight leaks
Through a star pricked sky.
Baby Jesus could you know
That between the bar door
And the midnight choir
Someone would urinate a crucifix
In this year's snow?
Seamus Hogan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-christmas-carol-5/
