Holy Night
Thousands of nights ago, an ethereal star scintillated in the crepuscule horizon, far away.
A swarthy man gazed in the dry cold wind
of a droughty Savannah, captivated by its celestial glimmer. And then he said to his companion in a halting dialect “a-KING-is-born”.
Oluleye Sijibomi
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 12/20/2020
Poet's note: Someone, somewhere in Africa also saw the first Christmas star
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