Two American boys
walking through the suburbs,
drunk,
stare into lit windows.
The ground is covered in snow;
a cold wind blows over the city.
They pass a bottle of vodka
back and forth.
One picks a brick off the ground,
finds a window
and throws it.
There is a loud smash.
They run away,
laughing.
Later that night,
they are both back in bed.
Snow has stopped falling:
the city is dead quiet.
Outside, frost covers
the old buildings and factories.
There is a peace;
Christmas is on the way.
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