It fell over
This year twice
In five minutes
Last year twice
In two days
This tree
Was shorter though
So maybe
It had a shorter life span
But we cut it short
We took off the bottom foot
And a half
Of a five feet tall
A Douglas Fir
Maybe I’ll call him
I tried not
To weigh him down
But sometimes
You can’t help but hoping
They’ll last
That their scent
Will permeate the air for life
And just burry you beneath
The mountain of refreshing air.
And it was
The most refreshing sort of scent
To calm that heartbeat
Regular or not.
But maybe next year
I’ll let it burry me
And I won’t burry it
All those decorations
Of Christmas’s past.



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