Twelfth Night

Slumped on the wet pavement;
Discarded. The breeze plays with it.

Once it stood in majesty –
A symbol of defiance against
the icy hand of winter.

Now it is laid low. A broken play thing.
Lights stripped, ornaments taken, star removed.
All boxed.

But not their wearer.
It is left outside the door.
There is no need for its magic now.

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