Christmas Eve

On Christmas Eve in barbary air
I drag the old moon by the hair
And trot her through the cobbled snow.
The dark is cold as calvary.
The naked stars across the black
Web of the night crawl spiderly.
Child, sleep while you can. Tomorrow
I will tell you another story.
Now ride in your dreams the mare “Glory,”
The stud “Death,” and the wild colt “Sorrow.”