Last dance

Big as buxom Granmamas
festive fir in wide embrace
family Christmas histories
hang beneath each branch.
Baubles mark nativities
the faded fairy's still atop.
Cue the myriad twinkling lights
tree looks readied for a dance
wrapped about with tinsel stoles
- severed at her source

And a last 44 word quadrille for the year with Mish’s festive prompt: tinsel

45 thoughts on “Last dance

  1. well… that’s a rather harsh (but obviously true) ending, Laura 😉

    I really enjoyed your word choices in this poem… they really flowed for me.


    1. thank you for your appreciation of the words – I could hear a rhyme pattern trying to get through but I did not want to be drawn!
      p.s. nothing harsher than a stumped tree

  2. The “faded fairy” lives on! Love that and how the tree is all dolled up for one last dance.

  3. A fair reading would not be crushing my heart, but I feel like I taste a bit of that ephemeral beauty that all natural things give me. I can’t recall at the top of my head the name of the precocious child who broke off a branch of cherry blossoms, knowing they’d live longer if left alone but hoping also that living a shortened life all the more beloved would be worth it. Regardless, a fond memory for a fondly considered poem.

  4. That last line jolted me, and brought me back to reality. I have used a real one, preferring the convenience of a plastic one. What is hurtful to see is when they are thrown away by the new year, sigh.

        1. I guess that’s why they call them tree farms. Like animals raised for consumption and other farmed plants, they are only alive because their death is pre-planned. It’s not a pleasant thought.

    1. actually that last line came to me unexpectedly Grace – I was just the mouthpiece it seems!
      p.s. more and more of us are opting for rooted trees in pots – we even have a rent a tree scheme whereby the tree is returned to the grower for another year

  5. ‘wrapped about with tinsel stoles’ ~ love this imagery, Stoles are not so fashionable these days but I do remember when they were! And yes, one always wore a ‘stole’ when attending a dance. Great quadrille!

  6. We cut the limbs off trees for wreaths and we “sever” them from mother earth to wear our baubles: brutally charged imagery of horror. An unexpectedly severe indictment, Laura.

  7. Quite a complex poem in few words. The title triggered several songs in my head which played as I read. Well done.

  8. Amazed by the ‘Tinsel stole’ and the last line that really resonates with me is the severed stalk. Wonderful, Laura.

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