Friday, December 3, 2010

Poetry Friday: The Hunt for the Perfect Tree

Over the years, I've done it all: Shopped for a tree at a fund-raiser's lot; bought from the local farm stand; tramped through the tree farm with the kids.

Now I put up a fake tree. The lights are pre-installed. The kids help me drag it up from the basement. When they are unable to do that, I will follow my parents' lead and put the top of the fake tree on a little table in our sun room. It'll be just enough to acknowledge the season.

This poem spoke to me about the tradition of having a Christmas tree:

Christmas Tree Lots
by Chris Green

Christmas trees lined like war refugees,
a fallen army made to stand in their greens.
Cut down at the foot, on their last leg,

they pull themselves up, arms raised.
We drop them like wood;
tied, they are driven through the streets,

dragged through the door, cornered
in a room, given a single blanket,
only water to drink, surrounded by joy.

Forced to wear a gaudy gold star,
to surrender their pride,
they do their best to look alive.
Join the Poetry Friday participants at The Miss Rumphius Effect hosted byTricia!


Andrea Murphy said...

I love the hostage take on Christmas trees! Think they experience Stockholm Syndrome? I'm going to name my tree this year. It's going to be "Tanya," but I won't make it wear a beret and carry a machine gun. (Is that reference too obscure?)

Diane Mayr said...

Oh, Patty, where have you gone?

I always hated the idea of a tree being cut down for our selfish pleasure, so I really relate to your poem today, Mur!

I'm Jet . . . said...

Mur, I'll help you bring the tree upstairs if your kids aren't available.

I have a nice four foot tree I bought at Bradley's many many moons ago (remember Bradley's?). It's a great tree. If I burn a balsam candle, people think it's a real tree!

Happy shopping everyone!


Mur said...

Thanks, all! Jet, the tree is in the sun room--waiting for ornaments. The kids put it up during the weekend. Thanks for the offer, though.

My fake tree is also accompanied by an aritificial woodsy scent courtesy of Yankee Candles. :)

Sally said...

My husband, of all people, objects to cutting trees down for Christmas decorations, so we have had a series of artificial trees. I really miss the real tree, though. But I HATE taking the decorations down, so the pre-assembled tree-in-a-box that my Mom used to put up in her flat is starting to look really appealing.

Anyway, love the poem, Mur.