a waxed moon making the most		lights the sky of this shortest night
counterpointing		carollers at early mass
thousands embroidered		of tiny cross stitches within her frame
I head off		for a sly one down the shebeen
open to the air adorned		our love shack with beams of driftwood
so chill those winds		that blew in with Benazir
a seismic shift in the year's		echoed somewhere first falling leaf
we tear off		another page another month
is it true always lose their sting		that scorpions come winter?
too many chillis		in mama's curry pot
crimson tulips the phases		proclaiming of our womanhood
within every haze		the ghost of hazes past

Moira: verses 1, 3, 6, 8, 10, 11
Norman: verses 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 12

First published in moonset 4:1, 2008