Wondering! in December

I. I watched a tub of raspberries expire away

and their captor persisted in plasticity forever

or at least as much forever as I can muster to see,

for I am more like the raspberry in this vessel of mine

and that is okay

II. December is not for raspberries but for a lot of naked trees that are neither bashful nor bold but exist in neutral tone, I forget about them. I forget about them after they loose their red splendor and I forget about them before they’re clothed again in green and I wonder why in their vulnerability I forget. And wonder why Christmastide is bookended with the colors of life.

III. and then I wonder how many more little known pieces of me

will spill out in the joy of knowing and being known

before I am witnessed brushing my teeth with my

yellow toothbrush

and green tube of paste