CHRISTMAS ‘77

CHRISTMAS ‘77

Today the fabulous boy is born, ‘Neath the criss-cross hedge he lies, Blood-drops on the wild hawthorn Hang between him and the skies: Jewelled, a milk-white unicorn Pieces the baby as he cries. Today the fabulous boy forlorn, In the Temple circumcised, Blood bedewed, the cruciform Infant on the altar lies: Rubies round its golden horn Sparkle in the creature’s eyes. Today the fabulous boy is torn, Stretched out, open to the skies, Blood runs down his milk-white form, Slowly, painfully, he dies: The fabulous dead unicorn Shall be with Him in Paradise.