The star made it to the top.
It flopped over,
lacking perfection,
lacking precision.
Just right.
I had begun to address the elephant in the room
when my son took the star from my hands,
as if waiting to hear the starting bell,
and began his haphazard placement.
And when he was stopped by the others,
reminding him to trim a bough
and to place it more centered,
(all good ideas)
all of that happened, too.
It just remained off kilter
and eventually tipped itself way back,
exhausted.
Now a new year begins
with easy,
with awkward,
with tricky,
and with health.
We are here for it all.
We are here.
