This year, I don’t feel jolly, can’t use Christmas as a balm.
I’ll settle for well-organized, painless, mobile, calm.
Ordinary’s fine with me—time to work with plants,
to lie with cats, throw balls for dogs, extinguish cutter ants,
file foot-high stacks of papers and clean my junk drawer out—
a shocking way to celebrate. Mundane, without a doubt.
I never thought that I’d grow up where Christmas was concerned.
I’m sure my metal Christmas tree is going to feel spurned.
The fact that I’m not using it this year is rather strange,
for I wrapped it, fully decorated, last year for a change.
It wouldn’t take an hour to bring it from above
and fall back into Christmas trappings that I truly love.
But the kittens would destroy it. Albeit, they’d have fun,
but that tree would be in tatters by the time that they were done.
The wisemen and the Christ child and dozens of nacimientos*,
the wreaths and lights and figurines–all holiday mementos,
I’ll leave packed up in boxes in the closets up on shelves—
Santas stacked on reindeer, nestled against elves.
This year instead of hanging decorations on the tree,
I’ll lie down on the sofa and let cats decorate me.
*A nacimiento is a nativity scene, but in Mexico, they consist of hundreds of different figures in addition to the traditional shepherds, wisemen, angels and holy family. Go HERE to see some of the surprising figures included in a Mexican nacimiento display.
The prompt today was jolly.