In the frosted dark of Market Square,
hours before Supermac’s opens,
the camel-backed Magi spark to life.

Stealthy council workers drape streets
with pearls of light, flashing Santas, sleighs;
star of Bethlehem crowning a twelve foot tree.

Beneath the Chemist’s neon crucifix
a hooded commuter sways,
cradling a polystyrene cup.

Gazing at the electronic display,
he offers up a silent prayer
that ‘Delayed’ might defer to ‘Here’.

Suspended between penitent streetlamps,
a fibreglass angel traipses across
the tinted windows of a bus – not his.

Angel unbound in departing Plexiglass,
the 104 lumbers towards its guiding star.

Published in 'Ink Sweat & Tears'

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Mohamed Sarfan's picture

Dear Poeter, The very title of this poem made me want to read it. My heartfelt congratulations to this poet who has handled the language so subtly as to convey realities and mysteries on the brink of scientific change. All The Best My Dear Friend; Write More Congratulations

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