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It is Christmas Eve, the family is asleep, and my bedroom is empty but for the fleeting image of her little face before my sleepless eyes I turn back the blankets, and quietly put on my dressing gown to make my way downstairs where the house in silence lies My key turns in the lock, the air is cold, an owl hoots, a fox barks the first snow falls as a thousand icy tears, her face glimmering her lips smiling, her hair curls under the bows of scarlet ribbon that hang inside each silently memoried falling flake, and the night is silent and cold, and my heart within me lies hushed and dark
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Feb 17, 2022
Feb 17, 2022 at 2:48 PM UTC
Christmas Eve
It is Christmas Eve, the family is asleep, and my bedroom is empty but for the fleeting image of her little face before my sleepless eyes I turn back the blankets, and quietly put on my dressing gown to make my way downstairs where the house in silence lies My key turns in the lock, the air is cold, an owl hoots, a fox barks the first snow falls as a thousand icy tears, her face glimmering her lips smiling, her hair curls under the bows of scarlet ribbon that hang inside each silently memoried falling flake, and the night is silent and cold, and my heart within me lies hushed and dark
memories of a little sister's death,
sheila-sharpe
Written by
74/F/Kegworth
Feb 17, 2022
Feb 17, 2022 at 2:48 PM UTC
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