It lies not where it first fell.
Someone placed it here at roadside,
added a toe tag for pickup.
Its boughs now heavy with snow
still sparkle as they once did
in the bay window of this home.
And the needles, yet green,
have life to give—a gift of color
to stark souls drifting by.
How prone we are to keep our heads
down, to miss things that no longer stand,
no longer have stars in their eyes.
Those brave enough to look
might just discover holy ground
at the curb, might catch a glimpse
of the garbage man—that chariot driver
carrying so many Elijahs
to heaven.
Copyright © 2019 by AJ Saur, from Particles in Motion (Murmuration Press).
Eighth Day Aches 
That’s beautiful, Andy. I take it you drove by our house and saw our tree? 😉
LikeLike
Hi Bernie: I wrote this a few years ago, but it’s very possible it was your tree that inspired it. I can’t remember now where it was, but let it be your front yard. Why not?! 🙂
LikeLike