I stand and stare at the naked branches,
stripped now of all regalia of the season,
standing naked and sadly alone in my gaze
like the gray day beyond every window.
All the celebrations have been swept to yesterday
like prom decor, bridal rose petals and
melted birthday candles.
The quiet haunts every New Year's day -
no more parties to smother apprehensions,
just sober reality, but, unlike crepe paper
embellishments, aisle runners or cake crumbs,
the tree trimmings will await an encore in
eleven months once more - one more time
one more time ...
Copyright © craig cornish | Year Posted 2018