Lights by Fiona Hodgkinson
Red and gold flash around the streets
as the people wander and meander the alleys of stalls.
Smells of hope and joy linger
but do little to disperse the sorrow that loiters.
Tis the season, they say, for family and love
but what do they know of love?
I can see you there,
standing beneath the lights that whisper
The ones we used to murmur to each other
when it was only a trap.
But I see how you pull your coat close to hide
as the colours start to bleed against your face.
Nothing can illuminate your darkest depths.
My only hope as I turn away from you
is that the Christmas lights bring you peace.