There was a holiday.
If it was about the turducken, it failed miserably.
It was definitely dry. Someone is always trying
to outdo; someone is exhausted from the trying.
Still the hills are shining,
coated lightly with shimmering ice.
The season is a master of both brilliance
In this moment of reflection,
there is no question that we are left lacking.
God is forgiving but there is a limit.
On the other hand,
if everyone made the right decision about mass
or the midnight sale,
The gross national product
might fail. Madison Ave would lose all its perks.
Hmm, that might work.
There was a holiday;
the tinsel is tangled and spent. Some of the twinkle
lights have burnt out. The tree is a little worse
But the night is calm and clear.
There is a sense of peace, an awareness that
for all we get wrong, we understand a baby was born
and that changed everything.