As a child, my grandfather gave me this poem in a slim volume; the words inside are shaped like an evergreen tree. I set it to pictures from our Christmas trees last year, the one in the kitchen for which I made dough ornaments by hand and our big tree in the living room.
by ee cummings
little silent Christmas tree
you are more like a flower
and were you very sorry to come away?
because you smell so sweetly
and hug you safe and tight
only don’t be afraid
that sleep all the year in a dark box
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy
you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see
oh but you’ll be very proud
and looking up at our beautiful tree