Advent Poem

bethlehem

Mary went down

to Bethlehem,

bone weary

and riding

on a donkey.

Great with Child,

she did not feel

like the queen

of anything.

While

the constellations,

wheeling

in their courses

like drunken sailors,

shown a little

above her.

And all of us

shuffling

a long road

longing to hear

the morning stars

shout for joy.

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