HOLIDAY RITUAL

It’s late in the fading day,
Blue, soft blue,
Mixed with incoming fog,
Soft and gray,
Streaks of pink between backlit cloudlets,
Sun Slipping away.

You’d think it was meant to be like this,
walking out into open space,
feeling small and whole.
Alive as hell.

Time’s running out,
With so much to be done.

Decorations,
Hugs to be had,
A meal for the family,
Gifts to be given,
A silent prayer,
Light, warmth, hope
in the middle of winter.

Holidays.

The rituals we have left,
carrying us,
reminding us,
to keep things going,
Long after everyone has gone home.