O Tannenbaum. Sweet Tannenbaum.

O Tannenbaum, Sweet Tannenbaum.

Long after you’ve been chosen and chopped down and hauled far, far away from the only home you’ve ever known-

And long after you’ve been propped up, leaning against others of your ilk, awaiting who knows what in the harsh light of the sales lot-

And long after you’ve been chosen once again and strapped to the top of a car-

And long after you’ve been dragged inside a sweltering home, a tree stand screwed to your trunk and stood in a corner-

And long after you’ve been draped with bright lights and heavy ornaments and glittering tinsel by giggling little kids and expansive adults-

And long after you’ve stood sentinel over gaily wrapped packages-

And long after you’ve watched the feigned surprise and happiness over seemingly thoughtful gifts both unneeded and largely unwanted-

And long after you’ve presided quietly over the gluttony and drunkenness that is a long-awaited Christmas dinner-

And long after you’ve it’s all over and the family has all gone home and the only thing remaining is the smell of over-cooked turkey and Uncle Bob’s overly masculine and horrendously inexpensive cologne-

After all of this, O Tannenbaum, Sweet Tannenbaum, you’ll still be standing; resplendent and twinkling glitteringly, beautifully regal in your Christmastime cloak of lights and splendor-

Until-

O Tannenbaum, Sweet Tannenbaum, the holiday is over and you’re stripped of your lights and your ornaments, your tinsel and your garland and you’re yanked from your stand of water, dragged outside and dumped at the curb, and left lying in the gritty grey gutter water, where you quietly shed needles and await trash pick-up.

O Tannenbaum, Sweet Tannenbaum.