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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463915" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Trees l</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463915" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Hustled onto First overnight<br>the trees have arrived<br>from Quebec<br>van-borne via veldts, <br>of piney, dark eddies<br>flowing up hillsides flanking<br>castles of lore; <br>arriving either earlier<br>or later than expected, <br>or at precisely the moment called 'right'<br>'round which all expectation gathers-<br>you decide. Bound tight, corsetted<br>quite in plastic snoods, <br>the branches which are their faces<br>covering their faces<br>as if they took lessons from a pine cone<br>and the child were indeed<br>father to the man; <br>as if they were shell-bound-<br>shell-bound <br>O Tannenbaum. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463915" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Through the zone they haplessly become I<br>tread an aromatic path<br>trailing the waft, <br>a seasonal beagle.<br>My boot heels strike stone<br>a hollow report I've heard<br>so many times before it's boring.<br>Is nothing new? <br>all about, the firs, <br>wintry presbyters, <br>insistent martyrs<br>to the feast of mystery and atmosphere: <br>atmosphere and...'<br>dear, dear, dear, dear, dear.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463915" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">a tuft reaches out and brushes my neck<br>at the mandible's angle<br>beneath the ear<br>that, were it clad in underwear<br>would be an erogenous zone, <br>still...</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463915" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">bowwing their heads, all, <br>they sing in a choir<br>'Buy me, buy me, ! '<br>I suck in the oddly refreshing, <br>oxygen-rich air and answer, <br>shaking my head, <br>'too much, sorry, sorry, too much, '<br>yet cannot but admit<br>'how lovely are, <br>how lovely are thy branches'.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463915" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'What...</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a></strong></div>