Ornaments to be mailed

The tree is folded and put away.I have looked at the straw ornaments every year, knowing they belong to my son.  He is almost 25 and on his own.  It is time to send them.  We have never done designer Christmas trees.  Our trees carry ornaments from years and years of collecting, and with them are the memories.  The plastic shoebox will carry some of those memories north. 

Day five of clearer vision.

Maybe it will stay.

The tree is down,

Branches folded and tied with twine

For next year.

There is a tree-sized space

Between the bookshelves

Where it stood.

The cat mourns the bells

That hung

From every lower branch.

I have packed a plastic shoebox of ornaments

For Minnesota,

For my son,

For next year;

Ornaments

They are really his:

The straw ones in a metal Christmas can,

A wedding gift from the priest

Who married his dad and me;

The  yarn Santa made by his cousin;

The red plastic bell

From the set he bought

At the sidewalk sale,

Age five,

Ten cents for more plastic ornaments

Than anyone ever saw,

Ten cents:

A proud purchase.

And others:

Samples of the family set

Of bells,

Of snowflakes,

Of handmade sparkly pipe-cleaner creatures

(one a dinosaur

He loved dinosaurs).

Two new ones from Peru:

Knitted sheep: black and white.

I have another day

Of clearer vision.

I have the Christmas plastic shoebox

Ready to be mailed

Next to the tree-sized hole,

The cat, now asleep

In the sun.