Leatha Kendrick
Photo: slingshots+meo remalante
A day at home, no big news. Alone,
with CNN and tea, stiff bones
of the Christmas tree, ravenous
for unsweet things. After the gush
of singing, unsought treats
and gifts, it’s time to pay. A rush
to Returns’ endless line. A fine
for late-mailed, past-due bills. It’s back
to ordinary time, days of sunshine
for its own sake. No decorations, fake
garlanded mirrors. Only the amaryllis
take their time to finish blooming. Sinners take
their sinning back full force. Alack
and gone the goodwill wishes, stacks
of dishes–all the lost days spent digesting,
laid about with games and resting.
It’s up and running back to work. Take in
the empty garbage bins, gone the heaps of trash,
crushed to nothing. The month-long bash
is done. Hooray. Let’s give away
the need to prove we love excess, hold fast
the ho-hum. Thankful that the fun
is over, celebrate the waxing sun,
the birds, the frost, mundane, a glory.
2 comments so far ↓
Roger Conner Jr // Feb 5, 2010 //
Now that’s a nice poem! That is the sing song sort of lyric and meter that I envy, and the imagery of the post holiday blahs (yet relief) so clear, it has a mood, somewhere between a Thurber story and a New Yorker cartoon and an Erma Bombeck column, so warmly domestic…that’s nice, did I mention I thought this was a nice poem? Good.
Roger Conner Jr.
Bobbi Rightmyer // Feb 6, 2010 //
I love this! You have captured the afterglow of holidays that so many of us feel, but are never able to get down in words. “… hold fast the ho-hum …” this line says it all!! Great job!
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