Taking Down the Christmas Tree
Memories always hold my glowstaring out the window
at darkness, somber solace
and sun in winter solstice.
In the midst of lighted snow
I watch the blizzards blow.
I nestle warm under angels,
cymbals, harps and bangles.
My ornaments, now boxed away,
stored for another day
wait to color next year
and snowflakes strain to hear
carols. Branches hold the creche
while my star will top and bless
new memories that light the air.
Swaddle me. I am no longer bare.
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