Christmas Tree

Lit-up trees are beautiful
They can’t be understood
Christmas only lets truth stand
Privately remembering the land
Where the tree left its roots
While we feed it water
Not to help it live
But to protect us
From its bright flame of dry anger
Baubles and their boxes
Fondly remember Christmas’ past
They all belong to this time of year
In their own certain way
They shed all our past worries
And sing only with fondness
For those who are here
And for those who are not
How can you give such gifts
After we do such things to you