Christmas lights and wreathes appear

strung across town like evening gossip.

A family sits around a tree handing out presents,

trying to ignore the ones pushed to the back to be donated

still wrapped,

everyone who receives one wondering

what happened to the name on the tag?

The lights blind the family,

Have Christmas lights ever been so harsh?

They leave the tree up till every needle

Lays in brown piles,

A skeleton of what used to be.