Michelle Bitting
Manger, Emptied

I saw the shepherds slogging through red dust,
Their sandals kicked up a ruddy cataclysm
With palm trees sighing through green stars above.

This was in Los Angeles where the active site
featured a bereft crèche, no babe front and center.
Stolen, we’d have no son for navigating midnight.

Everyone was somewhere else divining treasure to rub
Or holding for the light to reflect celebrated toes
With palm trees sighing through green stars above.

My mind’s brittle ghosts threw down like dice
Among tossed-out hay, brash as gold.
Stolen, I’d have no sun to navigate midnight—

Or nest of foraged threads to rest my soul’s bruised dove.
The heart that wants to rise and walk from its cage
With palm trees sighing through green stars above.

And of those playing it safe, who never speak up or fight,
While birds and branches scream a final rubedo?
Stolen, our sun planned for navigating midnight.

Before horizons bend and my brain’s undone,
My cup will runneth over a melancholy rain
As palm trees sigh through green stars above.

Crib, trough, sleigh, coffin, where’s unconditional love?
Manger meaning mangier, from Old French, meaning devoured.
Stolen, without a sound, now we navigate midnight—
Shepherds slogging through the red, red dust.