When the wrapping paper flares
in freakish red and blue flames
and its ash rises on its own heat
up the blackened chimney flue;
When the ornaments and lights
seem tired and longing for the attic
or basement where they can rest
until someone feels excited about them again;
When the gingerbread houses
have been stripped of all the good stuff
their icing is rock-hard and
they are left as offerings to the squirrels;
When tannenbaums poke out pathetic branches
half buried in the snowplow’s berm
half torn by the snowplow’s blade
waiting for Removal Day, whenever that is;
When you are tired of the metaphors
of red and green and music of bells
and your poetic mind can’t bring itself
to write twelve stanzas for contrast;
Christmas is over.
Christmas is over.
January 14th, 2009 at 11:39 am
wow - is it ever. “until someone feels excited about them again” - that pretty much nails it - yet you’ve still wrung a smile from it all.
you have fortunate squirrls…but man, it looks cold there.
January 14th, 2009 at 1:19 pm
I love the picture! (and the poem)
January 14th, 2009 at 4:42 pm
Great job…I’m as tired as christmas!
January 15th, 2009 at 9:55 pm
ha ha - you said it, brother!
When the ornaments and lights
seem tired and longing for the attic
or basement where they can rest
until someone feels excited about them again;
SO GOOD!
January 18th, 2009 at 9:36 am
It SO is! This made me giggle right outloud.
January 28th, 2009 at 1:56 pm
Oh, yeah! I can relate to this feeling. The poem made me laugh, but there’s also that sadness I always feel after Christmas is over. I feel just like those tired lights hanging. I love the tannenbaums half buried in the snow plow’s berm and half torn by the blade. Wonderful poem!
February 1st, 2009 at 2:50 am
Your description of Christmas paper is wonderful!
The entire poem is vivid and melancholy.