Christmas Tree
golden leaves
awash in the sun
cling to the branch
of this bare tree
parked in front of me
these four bright bulbs
strung in a line
all lit up
at Christmastime
I stare at these leaves
that refuse to fall
in the dead of winter
they’ll be green in the Spring
when the tree bears buds
and begins again
birds will land and leave
and someone else
in another time
and place
will stare at this tree
full of leaves
and in the winter
of their life
the tree will be bare
blurred in the rain
lost in the wind
save for the branch
all lit up in lights
at Christmastime
TL