Christmas was in the air and all was well With him, but for a few confusing flaws In divers of God’s images. Because A friend of his would neither buy nor sell, Was he to answer for the axe that fell? He pondered; and the reason for it was, Partly, a slowly freezing Santa Claus Upon the corner, with his beard and bell. Acknowledging an improvident surprise, He magnified a fancy that he wished The friend whom he had wrecked were here again. Not sure of that, he found a compromise; And from the fulness of his heart he fished A dime for Jesus who had died for men.Note: A recitation can be heard here.
- Mark Olival-Bartley
- Thanks to a residency at EcoHealth, my verse these days finds inspiration in the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at LMU München, where I tutor composition and edit a poetry weekly, I'm anatomizing the prosody of E. A. Robinson's sonnets—I also teach at MVHS and lead the Amerikahaus Literary Circle.
by E. A. Robinson