The Day After Christmas

Snow. Just a bit. Enough
to be beautiful, not so much to cripple.
Apple trees silhouetted against the while,
far enough from civilization that all is silent.

You need this. The silence. The stillness.
Christmas without the clutter.
This is where your spirit is found,

just in time before lights and music
and the noise of a thousand ads a day
swallow you alive.

This is why you do not live in your beloved cities.
They never stop
and at times, you need to. NEED to,

before you blow away like snow drifting
across the road, only to pile up
in the most unlikely of places.

No, this is your world. Silent snows.
Oceans. Vistas. Emptinesses
larger than your own.

About this poem

I love Christmas with all the activities and services and company. But too, at the end of the season, it is emptiness I crave.

The picture was taken in Durkeetown, NY.

Tom

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This poem was awarded the grand prize of the month by Poetry Universe, a Facebook group of over 57,000 poets and readers from around the world. This is the second month in a row I have been gifted this award.