It’s the day after Christmas and through the home
not a space in the floor that we may roam.
Boxes and furniture, all stacked with care
as towers of tables, cardboard, and chairs.
Dining table made useful with coffee and cream,
with cards of thanks but wishes and dreams.
Dishes nestled in stacks most steady,
pushed out of mind until we’re ready.
Next door, on goes lively laughs and chatter
heard through walls but it’s no matter.
Tones are muffled, filled with cheer while
music softly bumps behind painted reindeer.
Evergreen sparkling as if meant to be inside,
melted candles again lit, winding down the tide.
Now on about the day, all much the same
Pitter and patter, flickering flames.