under the black mistle toe

thee early hours telegram
sentenced her to her knees
there her tattered heart would fall
to condemn her
              under the mistle toe
for what she had heard
would paralyze a stone
for a quarter of a century son

broken heart of a year
comforted by laminated shades of black
and the last rites expression

the dust remains patiently
upon the oak cloaked chair
that stands before
the moth-eaten decorations

her incognito stare
upon his mystery silhouette
her energy drowns the flame
       under the black mistle toe