Reluctant to box up the ornaments
Wind the strings of lights
Declare the holiday over
And settle into the sameness
Of gray January days
But the water in the baseBecame murky and sticky
Evaporated
And when we finally took down the tinsel
The branches were brittle
And the tree
Was dry and dead.
submitted for Thursday Poets Rally Week 36
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| Thanks, Jingle, for all the awards! |
