Holly, Ivy, Mistletoe (Poem for Advent)

Holly, Ivy, Mistletoe
(Poem for Advent)

It's hard to wait,
the night cold comfort
in its new-flocked cloak.

Our winter bouquet —
sharp cuts from the spiny shrub
that breaks into wide-branched view,
its clusters blue berries and mauve
and brilliant enough for new-borne crown —
a feast for thrasher and towhee.

We do not mind the birds.

The spiky holly endures
beside the pearls of mistletoe;
the common ivy that walks
our garden walls like a lizard
holds fast:

This is the trinity
we truss up with purpled twine
to hang on our Advent doors.

Knock and we'll burn a candle,
make it our guiding star.

© 2013 Maureen E. Doallas