Sunday, January 14, 2018

January/The Sunday Whirl, Sunday's Whirligig, Poets United Poets Pantry


time of cold nights    single digits    the tree still up

looks shabby now     the moon shines brightly    

on the last strands of tinsel             still hanging there

the party is over        the holidays spent    the original list crumpled

thrown in the trash   it is about the children         presents opened      

toys already forgotten    so much expectation       disappointment for all         

in the beginning        no one thought          it would all turn into            

the giant potlatch     that it is          shelves in the stores are full

carols blare from the speakers   faces of the shoppers     are wistful     

perhaps remembering          christmas past           i board the train        for the new year

i count the stars        knock on wood          avoid stepping on cracks

gather my own superstitions           touch my fingers to my heart

no it is not the same             will never be         it’s a shady game

this game called life              spin the wheel           throw the dice

move the pieces around the board               it’s a game hard to play

solitaire                       gravity            keeps our feet on the ground

and if we trip and fall           down we go              scorekeeper

Says,  “man down send in the troupes”                 back on my feet

i begin again              knowing how it will end       …always does

each year with celebration  “Happy New Year to all      and to all a good night”

January 14, 2018                                                                                                       



Jae Rose said...

An insightful commentary - I quite like the potash of January there is some relief that all those expectations are laid to rest.. On we go xo

Sherry Marr said...

You have captured the expectations and disappointments of the season so well, my friend. A giant potlatch is a good description.

brudberg said...

It always come to an end... and we are left with only bills and dirty tinsel... but I guess it means jobs for some.

indybev said...


colleen Looseleafnotes said...

I enjoyed this truthful account. I always think of the aftermath of Christmas and the tree as something like a used condom tossed aside.

Audrey Howitt aka Divalounger said...

So well captured--the ambivalent feelings around the holidays--the disappointments inherent in high expectations.

Magaly Guerrero said...

It's a circle, this thing called living. And to stay in it, we must roll and roll again and again... even when we start to look (and feel) shabby.

Anonymous said...

I like how you capture the very real sadness and yearning, the deep desire that some day it might be different in the center of the knowledge that it won't.


Mary said...

Yes, it is a shady game - this game called life. We spin the wheel, throw the dice, move on into the new year...hoping for the best. Nothing is ever the same in a new year! This is a reflective poem, Annell. Each time I read it I find something else that strikes me. Such depth and thoughtfulness. This is REAL poetry!

Wendy Bourke said...

I so related - bang on - to this piece. The holidays seem to lose a little more every year. Then again, so does the prospect of 'peace on earth' ... so perhaps that is as it should be, until - gawd-help-us - we manage to get this planet rolling in the right direction. The game analogy was brilliantly penned.

I agree with Mary, there is a lot of depth and thoughtfulness in this work. Really a stunning bit of writing, Annell.

dsnake1 said...

the words that come to my mind on reading this poem are deep, thoughtful and honest. because if i read it again, and i did, i will find another hidden meaning in the words.
this poem is brilliant.

Samyuktha Jayaprakash said...

Life keeps reminding you of the ground but also gives glimpses of the wonderful sky. Nice poem.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

I really like how you have captured the sadness and longing, and the hope and desire that one day it might be different.. Beautifully penned.

Frank J. Tassone said...

Full of the sadness of time passing and experiences ending. Wonderful write!

Colonialist said...

I like the scorekeeper sending in showbiz instead of military!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Yes, despite the many superficial changes, the essence remains.

Sara McNulty said...

This is brilliant! Wistfulness while knowing each year brings changes.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

How well you have captured the 'spirit' of the season Annell.
I had to google 'potlach' but how appropriate the term.
And we move on into the next year and things change, we cope or attempt to cope with presenting pitfalls, and yes, things are never the same again...but the memories remain.
Anna :o]

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