Wassily Kandinsky
huffingtonpost.com
Like snow
on the limbs
Christmas melts
in milder air
mid`winter
The news
on air`waves
again mundane
the past year
in review
In a stable
only the ashes
remain of a fire
lit for warmth
and a birth
We are off
again to Egypt
hoping to escape
Herod’s wrath
at mid`night
