Ugly Sweater

I have an ugly sweater

I bought for Christmas joy.

The dogs depart when it comes out

for fear they’ll have to wear it.

The Christmas tree drops needles

and hides its star when I walk by, 

embarrassed by the sight.

The mistletoe falls from its perch.

My sweater clears the room.

I’ll celebrate in some dump bar.

I know I’ll drink alone.

inspired by day 29, ugly sweater, in the Garden of Neuro Institute Poetry Circle