The Second Life of Christmas Trees

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by Mark Perlberg



In frozen January, my friends and I

would drag discarded Christmas trees

from the sidewalks of our shivering town

to an empty lot. One match and fire

raced down a dry sprig like a spurt of life.

A puff of wind and the pile ignited,

flamed above our heads. Silk waves.

Spice of pitch and balsam in our nostrils.



We stood in a ring around the body of the fire—

drawn close as each boy dared,

our faces stinging from the heat and cold,

lash of that wild star burst on a winter night.

Comments

  1. JewelsJanuary 4, 2012 at 11:19 AM

    what lovely comradarie... scary and dangerous, but lovely.

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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