Christmas is Coming Down

Christmas is Coming Down

 

Image of Christmas tree with Garbage Can

 

A Christmas Poem

Christmas is coming down.
The ornaments and decorations and Christmas mugs
are safely nestled in the cardboard dividers
Inside the plastic boxes, ready to be stored.
Bill will pull the cord and release the rickety old attic stairs,
And I’ll declare that this is absolutely the last year I want him to go up there–
“You’re gonna break your leg, or worse,” I’ll say.
And he’ll ignore me and keep on climbing up and down until everything is put away.
I’ll hear the stairs retract with a bang into the ceiling and breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t break a leg–or worse.
And then I’ll discover one ornament that we forgot to put away and I’ll cram it in a drawer so he won’t go back to the attic again,
At least until next Christmas.

Christmas is coming down.
We’ve polished off the two gallons of party mix I made and picked all of the gumdrops off the gumdrop tree–
At least all of the red ones.
There are a few gingerbread cookies left and a tiny slice of cheesecake, which I finished off this morning for breakfast.
The cookies will be gone by lunchtime, or I swear they’re going in the trash with every other unhealthy snack–sweet or savory–in this kitchen!
It sure was fun while it lasted, but it’s time eat healthy again.

Christmas is coming down.
The tree is on its way to the curb.
Try as we may to keep the brittle needles in tact as the branches are pulled through the front door,
They will scatter about and make their way to every corner and crevice in the living room.
We’ll find them every time we vacuum–like broken teeth from a plastic comb, rattling as they are sucked into the tank–
all the way into next summer,
When we’ll think about Christmas 2015–the new memories we made and the old ones we cherished.

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