December 4, 2025

The Days of Black Friday

Cold and brilliant sun;
cold and flat gloom.
Yard shingled in leaves --

Duck decimated, fat kept.
Words cease-- pressure off.

Too much football --
too many talking heads.

Too much cave --  and
too little desire to leave it.

We chip away at decor,
place a wreath on the door.
Discuss a second tree.

But as my brother says:
"It's all gone --"

So, reading at 3am
to the faint whistle and

steady rumble of coal trains
making up for lost time,

the lamp stays lit.

While rain moves in,
urging us to bed.