The pre-dawn hunt and peck is on, although conclusions seem forgone. Every muse tries to contuse my fingertips and to confuse the digits stretching from my palms…
A playful look at what happened after the nativity, imagining the three kings’ untold adventures, shepherds, and the baby enjoying gold, frankincense, and even black licorice.
Once a year we cheer this fear and get our fill, each chill a thrill. We’re children still down deep inside where we must hide from guts and gore galore.