Holidays

Tears, blinding as stars,

serve as guiding lights

in a season of cheer.

 

Hopes, like snowflakes, 

fall and lose 

their pretty form, 

hardening into sheets 

of white despair 

beneath reds and golds.

 

Joy. Magic. Love.Togetherness. Peace.

These are the goblins, 

that creep in and gnaw 

 

through quiet phones,

empty mailboxes, 

un-pressed doorbells.

 

Christmas trees 

deathly still in the corners 

bear gifts no Magi would approve. 

 

It’s a relief when the cats

knock them over, kicking around the tinsel 

on the cold floors.

 

Author's Note

An observation.