Keeping it Real

The work crew


and disassembled

the Christmas scenes

on the town square,

packing up the plaster

carolers, the reindeer,

the sleigh, the rigor

mortis Santa (waving still),

the baby Jesus,

and the pile of hay.

They prepared the ground

for the January thaw,

the dubious holidays

of Ground Hog's

and Valentine's

and the snow

of the March blizzards

(which never came).

They sawed down

the ash trees

with little ceremony.

At last we can be

ourselves, I said, not

speaking to anyone,

but noticing a tumbler

of whiskey and ice

balancing alone

on the ledge

of the window

of the pizza house.

Beat that.

And now suddenly

it's May.