A memory

A new year. Enjoying the miracle of light

I take out your remains carefully

from the house where I slept last night:
I feel reassured by its solidity.

Like a model crammed into last year’s shoes

you presided over our festivities.

We lit you. You looked over our rituals

around you we laughed and sang, argued.

We had taken you from a hillside

plucked you from some lonely world

to remind us of life outside.

The light came back. It seemed to have died.

Your skeleton is a memory of Christmas.

Perhaps you will live, perhaps you died for us.