Home #Blue Nib Issues Issue 41 | March 2020 | 1 poem by Kathleen Holliday

1 poem by Kathleen Holliday


You tell yourself
you were never meant
for marriage,
serial romances or affairs.

You tell yourself
you did not choose that place
where a truce is held like a holiday,
between those armies of the night,

where despite the language barrier
a carol or two is sung
across the divide
above the wire.
Voices twining in harmony
drift up into the cold dark —
Silent Night.
Stille Nacht.

After a few songs —
never more than a few,
you no longer ask
what you’re ...


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