To Christmas: The Unsendable Letter Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Dear Christmas:
Joy is officially cancelled
For now, I have a holly wreath for a heart

Thorns have pierced my mind
The Past drips blood
The Present has wrung itself dry
Since Death stole my one lost lamb

I hang in the silent night
Like a bauble,
Filled with an endless, evil blizzard

No Kings, no shepherds
No heavenly choirs of angels
Knelt by my son,
Not at his coming nor going

Grief howls like a wolf
Over a stone-cold cub
2000 thousand miles of ice on every side
And not a fire in sight.