Evergreens are not so always
green, are they? I saw them tired
and gray this afternoon;
heaving, lumbering beneath
weighty tufts of snow.
Once upon a time,
when I smiled for no reason, I would
have leapt to their defense:
“Brilliant green in every needle —
don’t you see? Sweeping up,
away to a forever sky!”
“Christmas’ favorite guest,
scents seductive and arms
that lift the joyful weight of memories.
Taciturn yet strong, unwavering:
A constant strike of calm
when all around is chaos.”
Now I nod, knowing. We are simpatico,
aren’t we? Once picturesque, majestic:
bridegroom to nature’s sceptered peaks.
The stuff of pictures and of fabled art.
Today, little more than survivors
of the weather.
