Peg Larkin
Oh, Christmas Tree
We trudged out to a farm
Growing trees like corn
And claimed you,
With a pink plastic ribbon
Fluttering high, like a flag,
To warn away the birds
Who would have nestled
Within your branches.
Heaving you
Into the old van,
We hoisted you,
Straining and then straight,
Into the stand.
Wrapped you in
Tangled strands of colored lights.
Hanging all our homespun memories,
The relics of every Christmas past
Sleeping under tissue
Since last year.
You shivered and bowed
Heavy with our humanity
And with the memory of your own life,
Clinging, like the sap still
Coursing through your limbs.
And the silvery night sky
The place of birdsong and soft winds
Swirling just outside the window,
Called to you,
Tapping on the pane.
You sighed, and stretched
As your tinsel crown
Teetered high.
And then you leaned
Like an old habit,
Hovering, just a bit
Toward home.
