Holiday blues

I want to be a bear,

to growl a lot and wear

some fur, and fuzzy socks

with foxes’ heads on them,

and I want to curl in bed,

sleeping deeply until Spring.

Long nights are a-coming to get me,

the long dress rehearsals for

Friday’s merriments, the after-dinner mints

are out-of-bounds for the singer’s throat now,

just hot tea, honey and the occasional

self-slap across the face to stay awake.

The deep sleep won’t wait for me

after the big concert; the big dance troupe

awaits for its post-worthy pictures

I must take on Saturday night.

And Hanukkah! Sweet Hanukkah,

ah, those crazy 8 nights…

On Sunday I should join in the fun

at the in-laws; no, I haven’t forgotten them.

Words come out in spurts,

as I try to capture and hold them still

for long enough, so I can do my work,

my head still spins, and the blues

play loudly in my head,

coloring my mood to rare indigo,

during these times of sheer madness

when peace and love should be

the only things of importance.

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