Monday, July 27, 2009

The Old House

It seems to me it snowed that night
As we walked beneath orange tinted street lamps.
The streets were mostly vacant.
Most were home for the holidays.
Those who remained sheltered themselves
Within the confines of warmly lit homes.
In an old wooden wagon we towed our prize.
Heading home to set it up in the living room,
To decorate it in happy memories,
And light with the joy and love only a family knows.

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