writing

Afterglow

The stockings are empty, hanging by a dying fire.

The wrappings removed, the joy felt, smiles abound.

Stomachs are full from a day of feasting on treats and food.

Now the quiet settles in and only the embers remain.

The warm glow of the celebration starts to fade.

A small chill settles in, blankets provide a little warmth,

As we slowly drift off to slumber, bidding farewell to our festive day.

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