AS ( / London, UK)

Jingle Balls

He was smoking as he breathed
His exhalation expelling white clouds
In the subzero frost of the 16th Street Mall
That frigid icebox of a Denver day

December Mall traffic was bustling
And the doppelganger Santa
Just kept ringing that Salvation Army bell
Next to where he set his cowboy hat

The occasional passerby
Dropped coins or a buck into his charity well
Which still smelled of the rodeo days
As he juggled the balls without missing a beat

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Comments (3)

I have a lot of confidence and admiration for brave women...Aisha, never be defeated!
i love this poem and the fight in the personality.
Yes, and a chill down my spine, as I was reading this...maybe because I have went through the same thing, but was not able to write about it, It takes lots of strength to write about this! ~~Elya Thorn~~