the bird holds on,
despite the fact that his tail is coming unglued
and his balance is less than perfect
and the trees are getting smaller
he is comforted by the presence of the wooden angel
and the crackled glass ornaments,
both keeping their place on the tree despite
the culling of so much else,
so many beautiful things deemed
by the powers that be.
still, he is here—
present for another christmas,
carrying with him the memory of all the others,
merry and bright, those
happy golden days of yore.