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Burning Christmas Tree

 

It’s Christmas and the tree is dead.

You can work to hang all the ornaments,

Wreaths, and mistletoe in the world,

And not find a living soul to kiss.

 

Blistering wind sweeps into every crack.

In every window, board and door,

Angry words exchange in a breeze,

As if it was a simple seasonal chore.

 

We didn’t hang stockings over the fireplace,

This year. We didn’t see the reason.

We burned coal in our heart’s stove,

Because it was the last best use of the resource.

 

Sometimes, at Christmas time,

A smash and burn burial is best.

 

 

Dean Walker

 

© 2013, DeanWalker. All rights reserved.

DeanWalker (10 Posts)


2 Comments

  1. Cher Duncombe

    Powerful and soul-scorching, Dean.

  2. Anya Pham

    Whoa, Dean. I don’t know what else to say about it. It moved me, though.

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