The Breadwinner, a poem by JP Ryan at Spillwords.com

The Breadwinner

The Breadwinner

written by: JP Ryan

 

Our father buttered
the bread,
his vascular hand
clutching an old stained
bone-handle knife
as the wireless gave the news.

The sun had thawed
the morning,
and through the cottage window,
one star
glistened beyond a
pale and fading
lemon moon.

The Holy Ghost of Christmas
was whispering His promise
as burning embers glowed –
And I was a wide-eyed child.

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