Angel heralding my joy for Christmas:
Trumpeting for all to gather
To celebrate Christ’s birth—
Elegantly swaying in the breeze
Waltzing in the wind.
Found one morning in a heap.
The wind knocked out of her.
Pieces scattered.
Rainy and cold, I try to help. . . .
The wind is too strong, too biting.
Brought into the garage, a refuge from the wind,
To re-assemble,
To warm my hands,
to gather my thoughts.
With pliers, zip ties, stakes,
She stands again, but. . . .
She’s changed.
She has her battle scars, but
She also has changed her attitude.
She is sassy, challenging.
Blown over by the winds,
She leans a little—
her dance has changed ,
her wings outstretched—jazz wings.
Still playing her trumpet, but more Louis Armstrong
And less Gabriel.
Stand back.
Keep your distance.
Dancing by myself.
Challenging the world,
But, dancing.
Celebrating Christ's birth
Alone,
But, dancing.
