To get Apparel, Cases, Stickers, Wall Art and Home Decor delivered by the holidays, order today.

Not the Christmas I…

Tightly bound I hold a cold winter’s wind at my back, a coat once warm now dreary and wet. How warm mistletoe is, how warm the fire breaths, to stall the winds in their endeavors, meshed wishes. The smell of cinnamon rolls fills my nose, the numb cold pinching the last pin from my feet. The twinkle of the white lights that trim our tree, blinking in my eyes newly trimmed that day, a broken bottle of Bordeaux spilt on the floor, wrapped presents filled under needled branches, kindle burning, one bottle, two? I ran, they swam. Red along my hand, frozen dark, smoke soot, I smile, “I’ll run…”

Not the Christmas I…

XtomJames

Joined November 2007

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

I’m currently experimenting with mystery poems. This was a first attempt that I think works well.

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.