In the aftermath of Christmas there is quiet.
The guests have gone,
leaving us in the company of good gifts
and the familiarity of old, sweet companions.
We have had a lovely few days of celebration and family but now it’s time to put away the carefully saved wrapping paper and ribbons, until next Christmas,
and time to resume normal household activities, like hanging the clothes out to dry,
and conversing with the watchdog watchcat who keeps the threshold of my home close to her heart,
and tells us how good it is that we don’t have to flee from Herod, but can rest secure in our own dwelling, in the aftermath of Christmas.
© silkannthreades
From Innocent’s Song:
“Watch where he comes walking
Out of the Christmas flame,
Dancing, double-talking:
Herod is his name.” Charles Causley (1917-2003)