Christmas Eve Poem by Carol Ann Duffy

Christmas Eve

Rating: 3.5


'To Ella'.


Time was slow snow sieving the night,
a kind of love from the blurred moon;
your small town swooning, unabashed,
was Winter's own.

Snow was the mind of Time, sifting
itself, drafting the old year's end.
You wrote your name on the window-pane
with your young hand.

And your wishes went up in smoke,
beyond where a streetlamp studied
the thoughtful snow on Christmas Eve,
beyond belief,

as Time, snow, darkness, child, kindled.
Downstairs, the ritual lighting of the candles.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tom Billsborough 24 October 2017

I wonder in what sense snow can be deemed thoughtful. I think this is rather more than whimsical.

1 0 Reply
Bill Wright 22 April 2016

This poem is rather whimsical compared to some of the darker works in her canon.

3 1 Reply
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Carol Ann Duffy

Carol Ann Duffy

Glasgow / Scotland
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