It’s That Time

Poetry was demoted
Made subservient to Yule
Totes and totes and totes and totes
I’ve been a decorating fool

Two trees are up and ready
Waiting to be adorned
A third tree still boxed up
is eager to be reborn

And don’t forget the mantle
It’s bare and waiting too
And a bit more staircase garland
before the work is through

At least the Dickens Village
is absolutely complete
Glowing buildings, winter trees
and Victorian lamp lit streets

Tomorrow we begin again
hoping to tie loose ends
All to be done by Thanksgiving
when we open our home to friends


I opened my eyes
Rolled over to squint
at the clock
Its arms at seven
I sighed
closed my eyes for a second
Opened them again and it was nine
Just like that
And in that brief instant
I ran a large grocery
and fired a cashier
and I think back to
all the times I’ve
began a sentence with
“when I was in my twenties”
as if that was relevant
or even real . . .

I only closed my eyes for a second