Time does not move evenly. Some years leave only a trace, while others settle into the objects that are handled again and again. Holiday decorations are among them, brought out, arranged, lived with, then taken down and packed away, growing more delicate and more marked by time.
The Light They Left
By Kerry A. Wiley
The Christmas lights are hung again,
their glow softer than it once was—
each strand a little more fragile
after a year, and then more years.
Faces once gathered here now live in memory.
A voice seems to rise with the lights,
a trace of laughter moving with the glow
as it settles across the branches.
Red and gold ornaments sway gently,
glitter catching the faintest shine.
Pieces once handled by a child’s small hands
now rest in an adult’s hold,
carrying the years between.
And the familiar Happy… Greetings…
rise toward the lights
and meet the tears the season has earned.
Still the tree stands in its softened glow,
each fragile strand holding what time cannot—
the touch of those who shaped these seasons,
and the light they left behind.
In the rituals of the season, certain objects hold more than their shine. A strand of lights, an ornament shaped by years, a greeting spoken with both joy and ache: these small details reveal the passage of time and the absence of those who once stood beside us. This poem reflects on that lingering light and the memories it carries.