It remains to be...

Tear down

the once loved tree

its crooked branches

webbed and dusty.

Stow away memories

of a happier time

when it was shared

on joyous occasions.

Replace the shimmer

with iridescent tarnish

as a thousand sands

of sparkle fall

to be swept and tossed

out in the trash,

with tinsel rusted from tears.

Silence heavenly voices

angels from on high,

their chorus screams

from the strangulation

of serrated ribbons

which hung glass ornaments

collected with care

through the years.

Toss tins of cookies,

mouldy cherries

and rancid nuts,

leftovers from baskets

fermenting in the fridge,

sacrifice to the composter

and wait for decomposition

when worms awake.

Salvage paper wishes

of love and good cheer

to be stored in the box,

held and reread next year,

when the good wishes

be faded as the ink, or be

flicked off by curled edges

on aged parchment.

Wrap me in your arms

confirm to me there will be

better days, more warmth,

happiness and peace.

If not there will be another

time, perhaps another year,

as it remains to be.