Red and Green

by The Cowl Editor on December 8, 2017


two red orb ornaments dangle precariously from a bottom branch of a christmas tree; on the ground lies a broken ornament
Photo Courtesy of

by Marelle Hipolito ’21

red. green. green, red.
what was once alive is now dead
red. green. green, red.
all because of something that should’ve been left unsaid

him, and his little bitta whiskey
me, and my now little brittle heart
why’d he have to open his mouth, and tear me apart?
now the chestnuts are cuts
the candy canes are pains
white Christmas, he drunkenly stained

red. green.
he wasn’t what he seemed.
red, to grinch green.
I became equally as mean.

broken ornaments and cold fireplaces, empty with no wood
blown out candles, no carolers in the neighborhood
dimmed star on the floor by the tree
unopened box of the nativity scene
why did he have to be so mean?

but, you glued the ornaments back together
made the embers spark, and fight back the cold weather
you sang songs of carolers down through the streets
lit the candles, and placed the star back on the top of the tree
next to a table where we set up the nativity scene
and you warmed my heart again, back to its size three

green, red.
you’re sweeter than gingerbread
green, to love red.
you’re the merry to my Christmas,

the end.