Epiphany
At dusk, I unwound
the strings of Christmas lights
from the tree’s dark boughs.
Off the coast, crab boats float;
their lights are constellations
fallen into the sea.
North of town, the sheep
have been brought into the fields
for the winter;
Easier for the shepherds
who watch them
in the long darkness.
The fishermen
drop their crab pots into the
stormy sea,
Trying to feed their children,
warm their houses, and
buy a few trinkets.
I hold the strands of darkened lights
and gaze out my window
searching for a sign.
