boxing day 2019

the christmas bustle chugs right on
through new year’s and epiphany (my birthday),
a long wild sled ride
through the darkest days of the year

all the things we didn’t quite finish —
puzzles, games, presents, baking,
candy-making, crafts —
continue in leisurely fashion
as the old year wanes

after christmas itself,
a seasonal sadness lurks
under the surface
as we continue the holiday activities
and play with our new toys

this year, this season, is on its way out
and will never come again
next year
we’ll wear another year’s experience on our faces
and this year will sit
on memory’s shelf

the house whispers moments
of love and joy
in the days packed with activities
and teeming with life

christmas has to be taken apart,
organized,
sorted,
packed into labeled boxes,
bags,
and plastic crates
squirreled away on high shelves
and dusty corners

an afternoon to collect
all the wrapping supplies,
transform their chaos to order,
and return them to the airlock

an hour to pack up
the candy-making equipment and
get a tall person
to neatly stack it
at the back
of the top shelf
of the big pantry

a day to undress the tree
sort and pack up
the ornaments
reel the lights into
neat coils
cover the treetop santa
and put everything back
in the cedar chest,
the airlock,
and the cat house

sifting through the memories
of this christmas
and all christmases past
with each handmade ornament
and holiday trinket

the forlorn tree waits for trash day
bare and dry and brittle
the floor littered with its needles

the candle-driven nativity merry-go-round
rides one more time to burn down its candles
before being taken apart
and put back in its box

sweep the floor
shake out the tablecloth
take a deep breath
of the cold january air

it’s done

life

goes on