The garden’s lone butterfly
lights on the leafless hardened fig,
searches for food, a mate.
Fireside smoke
ripples the night air,
warmth surrounds the family.
Insects, rats, feral cats
look for crawl space,
a winter habitat.
The homeless, the drunks
move out of the shadows, alleys
to soup kitchens, shelter.
Christmas shoppers swing in and out
of mall and strip-center doors,
drop coins in Salvation Army pots.
Mothers, sisters, aunts bake cookies,
box them up, send to soldiers
in faraway lands.
Season trimmings, motifs
are hung, plastered, placed
in their annual holiday spots.
Wrapped gifts adorn the tree
toys for tots, gift cards for teens;
gift receipts ready for returns.
A time to gather, to hug,
reflect on the year just past
and wait for signs of spring.
The squirrel secures the last fig,
the lone butterfly flies
through winter’s door.
© by Erle Kelly.
Used with the author’s permission.
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