Anticlimax and tail lights in fog

The year of childhood’s end

by the calendar

and still more in your heart

At the end of innocence Christmas still comes

yet dull and without mirth

The high water mark left bare

as tail lights faded from view in a fog

A fire still burning at the hearth

The ornaments still adorned

Left alone

and for the first time unsure

Watching west from picture windows

Pink and violet hues painted on the belly

of looming winter cloud banks

Until the final shade of night drawn down

Underwhelmed we search that common ingredient

and resolve to go on sleeping