friday

The table is
sticky with glue,
there are
crooked sequined grins
on two
hastily cut
painstakingly crafted
brown paper
gingerbread boys

The toys
are strewn,
couch cushions askew,
I have two hastily fed
sleeping boys
the house is
happy to be silent
breathing in and out

warmth
and love
and twinkle lights
piles of mail
receipts and crayon doodles
half-unpacked bins
of Christmas sparkles
this is
my happy life.