TAKING DOWN THE TREE in Postcards 4

My hands are perfectly steady when I start,
this isn’t such a memory filled tree as many others were
but I have liked it the best of all.
Soon, I discover, I cannot remember where things go.
There are boxes with little partitions for each item
and I am left wondering what goes where.

Not the tear drops. I know them well
and only discover that I don’t have enough
tissue padded slots for each one, for each size.
The sixties worn ones have spaces, I discover, but
there aren’t enough balls any more.
I thought I Had bought dozens of these old things
online, and they arrived weirdly wrapped.
I remember that. The green and blue pepper
box, that takes some finding as does the 4 top
box for the blue ribboned balls.

My hands grow shakey as the dust flies around my head
I sneeze, I cough,
I drop balls, and they fall like raindrops do
from grey skies outside this morning.
The first few don’t shatter, and I feel glad.
The rest plummet to the wooden floor
not bouncing, not rolling away, but exploding
into memory of the tree I liked best of all.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

• Himself: Working all day on Bobbies Boxes. She’s in New York. He’s having a lot of fun with this.


• Myself: Taking down the tree, getting rid of books as I brought some home, and don’t accept any new friend messages from me on Facebook.


• Reading: A Joseph Hansen.


• Gratitude’s: That I got the tree down.

Last updated January 06, 2019