Wednesday, January 4, 2012

The Second Life of Christmas Trees

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.

1 comment:

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


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