on holiday from work, or maybe not--
the spirit feels, as winter, cold and bare,
the body, now a temple sense forgot.
The reasons for the Christmas presents bought
are gone, like bows and papers in a bag
somewhere behind a fence. The hearts besot
with cheerfulness with milk and honey, sag
from Christmas dark regret, to new years sulk and drag.
© Copyright 2006 W.D. Neighbors
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