Christmas Lights

Long, sagging strands of Christmas lights,
Tangled in their hunter green helix cords,
Stay stapled and hung on house seams
Weeks into the new year's novelty.

They sway in the cold winter breezes
And sag down when it has rained,
But they will not be turned on again
For the fear of losing neighborly tact.

Lazy, lumbering husbands will climb ladders
To eventually tug them down again.
They'll coil and hide them in molding cardboard boxes,
Forgetting them in the corners of attics or garages.