Christmas party at the South Danbury Church by Donald Hall

December twenty-first
we gather at the white Church festooned
red and green, the tree flashing
green-red lights beside the altar.
After the children of Sunday School
recite Scripture, sing songs,
and scrape out solos,
they retire to dress for the finale,
to perform the pageant
again: Mary and Joseph kneeling
cradleside, Three Kings,
shepherds and shepherdesses. Their garments
are bathrobes with mothholes,
cut down from the Church's ancestors.
Standing short and long,
they stare in all directions for mothers,
sisters and brothers,
giggling and waving in recognition,
and at the South Danbury
Church, a moment before Santa
arrives with her ho-hos
and bags of popcorn, in the half-dark
of whole silence, God
enters the world as a newborn again.

by Donald Hall

Other poems by 'Donald Hall'

An old life

Affirmation

Name of Horses

Sudden Things

White Apples

The Alligator Bride

Mount Kearsarge Shines

Villanelle

Wolf Knife

A Poet at Twenty

Search Poems
e.g. love, marriage, kids

Popular poems this week

In Silence We Left

The Lost Dances of Cranes

The Author to her Book

Summer Evening

The Lesson

To Mæcenas

A chilly Peace infests the Grass

You Fit Into Me

Still I Rise

Les Lauriers Sont Coupée