![\"PomegOrnam\"](\"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/01\/PomegOrnam3.jpg\" "\\"PomegOrnam\\"")
<\/a><\/p>\n<\/p>\n
<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cGive me some light!\u201d cries Hamlet\u2019s The ornaments go down into the box: With something more than caution By suppertime all that remains is the scent \u2014Jane Kenyon<\/em><\/p>\n The day after Epiphany is traditionally the occasion for packing up all the ornaments and toting the Christmas tree off for recycling (in honor of which I post this painting, and a poem by Jane Kenyon). That is, unless you live in a household in which the offspring are eager to extend the season asRead more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[64],"tags":[39,61,19,52,18],"class_list":["post-5212","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-painting","tag-food","tag-oil","tag-poem","tag-still-life","tag-winter"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5212","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5212"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5212\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5220,"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5212\/revisions\/5220"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5212"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5212"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eachdayisacelebration.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5212"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nuncle midway through the murder
\nof Gonzago. \u201cLight! Light!\u201d cry scattering
\ncourtesans. Here, as in Denmark,
\nit\u2019s dark at four, and even the moon
\nshines with only half a heart.<\/p>\n
\nthe silver spaniel, My Darling
\non its collar, from Mother\u2019s childhood
\nin Illinois; the balsa jumping jack
\nmy brother and I fought over,
\npulling limb from limb. Mother
\ndrew it together again with thread
\nwhile I watched, feeling depraved
\nat the age of ten.<\/p>\n
\nI handle them, and the lights, with their
\ntin star-shaped reflectors, brought along
\nfrom house to house, their pasteboard
\ntoy suitcases increasingly flimsy.
\nTick, tick, the desiccated needles drop.<\/p>\n
\nof balsam fir. If it\u2019s darkness
\nwe\u2019re having, let it be extravagant.<\/p>\n<\/a>Emily<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"