Christmas Trees and a poem by e e cummings

(excuse me while i slip into cummingsese...)

yesterday, while driving to and fro I saw many trees strapped to many tops of cars. i remember this, remember the excitement and the smell and the bristle tough touch of the fir. now we have fake firs and candles to fool ourselves into thinking the something is as real as the other. its not.

i thought of this poem and thought i would share....

little tree by e e cummings

little tree

little silent Christmas tree

you are so little

you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest

and were you very sorry to come away

see i will comfort you

because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bard

and hug you safe and tight

just as your mother would,

only don’t be afraid

look the spangles

that sleep all the year in a dark box

dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms

and I’ll give them all to you to hold

every finger shall have its ring

and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you’re quite dressed

you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see

and how they’ll stare!

Oh but you’ll be proud

and my little sister and i will take hands

and looking up at our beautiful tree

we’ll dance and sing

“Noel Noel”

"little tree" was originally published in The Dial Vol. LXVIII, No. 1 (Jan. 1920). New York: The Dial Publishing Company, Inc.