The Day After Christmas

While out with the dogs I saw an inflatable Father Christmas, lying slack on a driveway.

It lay there, on the flooded patio,
Deflated and spent, like a giant's condom;
The spectre of Christmas in a puddle.
Hung from the tree, darkened lights,
That in the night shone bright,
Now smirked and revealed the sham
Of stars fallen to Earth. 
Green bins bursting open with bottles and paper
stand skew-whiff reeking of "I know not what."
Traffic absent, the roads lay empty
And become the paths, as parked cars
Mount the pavement with wind mirrors folded.

The feverishness of Advent reached its peak
With a day of eating, drinking and being merry.
Now, in the hiatus before New Year,
Tiredness, grief and "What now?" descend,
And with festive pyjamas, we land deflated and spent
In front of the telly.

Published by poetdoesarun

I started running 16 years ago to help manage anxiety and depression and found the endorphins helped me in another write my sermons for Sunday.... and then inspiration came for poetry. A Christmas present 2017 was a book by Jo Bell, challenging the reader to write a poem a week for a year. This blog showcases these and other poems composed on the run.

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