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About Christmas I feel luke-warm -

night-workers I respect,

looking down at woolly jumpers,

though up as if for wolverines.

Surrounded in the blackness

by lion, bull and bears,

they never could wash properly,

uncleanliness so far from God.

But when they read the heavens,

crooked necks toward the stars,

they saw more than others see,

whose birth-right closes eyes,

light, sounds, signs and symphonies

beyond their narrow fields.

About Christmas, I feel Luke-warmed

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