The Evergreen Tree

The Evergreen Tree Upon the tree, I set my sight, And see, to my delight (With head tilted up, And hand shading eyes) In the boughs Sagging from the snow Birds of various colours Perched on the branches Highlighted against the green Under blue skies, And I am elated to suck in The crisp air of country living. My wonderment never ceases How freely the birds communicate To each in chirps and whistles, As if a quorum to hold a meeting. This tree is their sanctuary. And I think about the tradition And am disgusted with myself. They who chop down the evergreens For seasonal use, to please their vanity Are enemies of the environment. ‘Why can’t I buy an artificial one instead?’ And sheath the axe and exit.