Dan Hardison

The Crèche

There is a white angel on a straw covered roof, patchy now from years of handling. A lamb has long been missing, and a camel was broken beyond repair. The burro’s head, broken from its body, is held together with glue. The wise men are chipped and the infant, smudged from many a child’s hands, still lays in the manger in all his glory. The children are grown and have moved on to families of their own.

parting
after too short a visit . . .
lingering hug