This Christmas

This Christmas packages pile up
faster than good feelings,
bows in plastic smothered rows.
And Santa better sanitize–
no more old-fashioned 
whispering, gloved hands,
or casual lap dancing.

December skies look dyed,
taboo see-through clouds, but
I wear the same old constellation gown,
plus what I want's the same,
winds turn wisdom inside out
rip staked lights out the ground;
the guidelines have all changed.

© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved

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