Rain in the desert on Christmas Eve, the kind that doesn’t wash anything clean, just blurs the outside lights and my nerves.
Some of the family visiting for Christmas — the women feeding video poker machines at Del Sol casino their pensions and prayers, one still face down in sleep another out birding, counting feathers instead of people, as usual.
And me— alone with a cup of black coffee, on the table next to the laptop with Alexa playing in the background.
They say this is how it goes. They say this is normal. But something’s crooked in the picture — like a smile held too long, like a joke nobody laughs at because it’s too close to the truth.
Christmas keeps insisting I should feel something. All I feel is the rain tapping the window knowing I’m home and doesn’t care who else isn’t.
Raven Lovebirds On Christmas Eve — Photo-Artistry by kenne
two ravens in a tree
on Christmas Eve
showing affection
bobbing heads in
silent communication
when with a quick nod
one flies off signaling
the other to follow —
contemplate the void
suddenly my eyes blear.
The original photo was taken at the Corner Pub in Conroe, Texas during the Christmas season. It was a merry time, but this image of one of the band members out of Austin, on his cell phone gave a different image.
Christmas Eve Alone
In the shadows of street lights Outside the courthouse walls Mused as they access the night
Leaning against the door’s edge Not sure if I should go in Or stay out and take the pledge
Gazing into the dark pub Not penetrating the door Peppered with eyes in the club
My shadow touching each eye Knowing only my dark image Masked in a fear of reply
So, lonely are the shadows Confined by all nearby objects Blurring in with all that glows
Christmas Eve In The Desert — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Raven Lovebirds On Christmas Eve — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Kingwood, Texas East End Park On Christmas Eve — iPhone Panoramas by kenne
Christmas Coach — Photo-Artistry by kenne
