The Morning After - Dec 25 2022

 

The Morning After

Dec 25 2022

It always ends this way.

Pumpkins rotting at the curb.

Spindly Christmas trees

shedding their needles

tossed in the snow.

The hangover from hell

New Year's day.

I am a pessimist.

I can't help but see

the ghost of the morning after

lurking in the shadows,

its grey sunken face

gazing hollow-eyed

at the breathless festivities

and giddy excess.

Because everything is zero sum;

in the end, someone pays.

But the tree was beautiful

the pumpkin elegantly carved.

And it was Champagne, no less,

who could refuse a glass?

After all, everything is temporary;

sooner or later

it all becomes waste

and we move on.

    . . . As, in the fullness of time

we too will be gone.

This is the secret of pleasure

   —  to lose yourself in the moment,

surrender

to your inner hedonist

and enjoy.

So I must learn to banish

my inner demons

and hovering ghosts.

Give in

to the festive season,

get drunk on life.

I tend to be pretty buttoned-down, find it hard to let go. As if too much indulgence would be tempting fate. As if I was saving myself for something. Which is as fallacious as saving time: imagining, I guess, that you'll get it back at the end!

Although I do have a legitimate beef with excess and waste. And there is virtue in restraint, after all.