Afterglow

     

 

 

The afterglow of festivities

shines bright on melted candlesticks.

Thick residue winds its way

into settled dust on table tops.

The family has departed to revel

in their gifted bounty

while I stack gay torn boxes

empty with memories now faded.

In the quiet winter light, I reminisce

with the Christmas tree left behind.

We both are shedding.