To a Fir Tree Dying Young (after Houseman)

(Reference original Author work: http://www.bartleby.com/103/32.html)

The time you stood in roadside lot
We chose you to fill a special spot;
Girls and boys sang cheers of pride
And home we brought you, car-roof tied.

Today the roadside you must face
The car-roof never more to grace
And set unknowing your next home
Where wrappings filled with nothing come.

Blessed gifts tucked under boughs
Where loving families sang and roused
Those children in the morning's "Squee!"s
And joy engulfed those sacred trees.

Eyes alit with glowing treasure
Cannot see, but once seen can measure
In silence many nights had flashed
Darkened eyes removed now, trashed.

Now you knew not when you were cut
Your new life short, unfortunate
Beloved beacon, then cast aside
The yuletide tree can't long abide

So spread, before your needles fall,
Your joy of spring's return for all
And know that though your green may fade
A yule log from you next year be made

And round that star-bejeweled head
Was flocking & tinsel garlanded
And though you've withered and gone dumb
The love in you, both for, and from