Home by Christmas

by Sean Ryan

Its Christmas,

our party and

they must forget;

I, we, they said,

we should be home by now,

but I’ve gone to bed

f-frozen fingers afumble

on Woodbines.

its cold you see

and still cold.

all my friends forgot

ten of them, on fingers,

count them all

blue and cold and afumbled

my friends forgotten,

all of them,

they were     here    

   only...

         moments ago.

the heat out there...

but its cold in the mud

and I’ve g-gone to bed.

you see,

We were just a Christmas party,

with laced up boots

and caps on heads,

laughing, wild,

resolutely lost, lost,

and going all over the top.