The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.1971, Side 34

32
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
WINTER 1971
iiiimi iiiusifi ;r; miiiiunmiu
Her foot caught in the silver tinsel she
Is winding and winding like moonlight around
A tree that stands, a diamond-decked fugitive
From the forest, in a corner of the room,
She stumbles toward the window, where yesterday
She hung a star that feeds its glow on a live
Current of warmth and light which wraps
All within her house in wellbeing.
The man at a far branch of the tree drops
His end of the moonlight and goes to her side.
In the circle of his arm she gains her feet.
And the two stand under the star at the window
Gazing like wide-eyed children at real moonlight
Weaving a shimmering pattern on crisp, white
Snow. Like mercury it eludes the bewitched
Eye, never to be prisoner of human memory.
A mystery forever, the moonlight and stars
Casting light and shadow on frozen snow
This charming evening.
Unheard this moment are the shouts of
Two small children. Balancing an angel
And a popcorn ball in sticky hands, they
Talk of the Moon, too, and men who will
Leave this earth on Christmas Day,
Leave their children, leave their wives,
Leave the magic of the Moon’s distance
And draw close to the stark reality
Of its burn-out fires, while earthlings
Bask in the magic of their afterglow
And Earth children hold the dream like
A fragile bauble that maybe the astronauts
Will make a gift of the Moon’s nearness
At Christmas