A poem for the last day of Christmas, the Twelfth Night, and the day of Epiphany.

One poem made up of six cinquain. I published an earlier version of this poem, to the same purpose, here on The Flummoxed for my Christmas 2020 poetry series, “Songs for Christmas.”

“Christmas Sleet and Snow”

Cold sleet
falling down on
a lone rooftop nestled
in the hills. That is the place I
call home.

Is this
where God wants me
to stay and do my part?
I ask, and the answer is, "Yes.
It is."

Who knew
life held so much
trouble, sorrow, despair?
One knew and conquered all of these:
Jesus.

The night
darkens every
day, but one bright night fell
darker yet: The sacrifice of
our Lord.

Christmas,
Jerusalem,
a bursting forth of life,
direct light from a distant star:
A Child.

Snowflakes
falling down on
a lone rooftop nestled
in the hills. That is the place I
call home.