Wood Hills Creek

Wood Hills Creek All is quaintly quiet on Wood Hills Creek The day after Christmas a silence unique No shaking hands or exchanging of smiles Only symmetrical snow as it pleasantly piles All is fractal frost on Wood Hills Creek The air chilled and damp a barometer bleak No warming of hands and hearts left cold For Christmas is over now back to the old All is blasphemy bitter on Wood Hills Creek With shivering silences no words they speak Goodwill toward man nowhere to be found Only merchant materials that keep us bound All is lamentingly lost on Wood Hills Creek As greed gracefully falls a morphic mystique The Spirit of Father Christmas left far behind Until next year...just one day...to be kind. Dec.21.2016 The Day After Christmas - Contest Sponsored by: Anthony Slausen Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays...