I took down the Christmas tree today,
Gently lifting each ornament
From dried out branches
Trying not to spill too many needles.
I thought of many of the people who gave them to me.
Many are doing this same task,
Removing the ornaments
From their trees.
"Our First Christmas Together",
"Our First House"
"Baby's First Christmas"
History displayed in decorations.
Trees filled with hundreds,
Thousands of memories.
My tree filled with hopes and wishes.
Despite my best efforts
The floor is carpeted with needles
Resembling a lonely,
Dark forest floor.
I tip the tree to drag it outside
Forgetting the water in the stand.
It spills and soaks my slippers.
Or is it a pool of tears in which I stand?