A poem for Epiphany

Alarmed, perhaps, by clarion bells,
The kingfisher lets fly
its gift of jewels.
The sunlight slips
In sheets of fire,
Pillowing our morning bed.

The Three Kings have passed us by,
Somewhere between Bethlehem
and the South Tyrol.
But we have Venice once more
And the magical, moated, bird sparkled morning
instead.

May I wish you all a peaceful Epiphany and a very Happy New Year.

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