Friday, December 24, 2010
Big Tent Poetry: Wordle
Christmas died for me
the day our tree toppled over.
Erin and I had lugged
the decorations from the basement
and were hard at work
turning our living room
into a magical fairyland.
I was holding Erin up
so she could place the angel
on the top when she leaned
too far, grabbed the branches
to steady herself, couldn't stop,
and all three of us landed in a heap
of broken ornaments and fir needles.
After making sure she was okay,
we started over again but it was
just a performance. My Christmas
spirit became slighter and slighter
and by the time Erin hung the last
ornament, it had vanished altogether.
I swept it up along with the debris
and dropped it into the trash.