#7 

The Christmas wreath I buy at the Pine Patch in 

Hastings, Nebraska usually stays up until the end of February 

because I forget that it's up there, slightly left of the front door, 

below the nickle-plated numbers 404, and even though I see 

it daily, reminding me to dispose of it, I cling to the vestiges

of the season: the fir, the cones, the glittery plastic balls in 

monochromatic browns, and large showy bow,

evergreens alluding to eternity.

catherinenglish 1-07-13