Christmas Trees

The weeping pine glistens

In the morning sun

Long, graceful needles

Drooping

Dew drops dripping

Down

Short branches

Stretching sparsely

To the world.

Few notice.

Most rush by searching for

Trees more ornamental

Grand, Spruce, Noble

With stubby needles turned up and out

An abundance of branches

A seasonally conical shape

The weeping pine will never adorn

The festive living room

Nor hover over mounds of presents

Nor support the weight of lights and balls.

No, it will ever be decorative

Standing solitary in rock gardens

Guarding ferns and hostas

Merely to be gazed at

Rarely to be praised.

Never to be adorned.

Maybe that's why it weeps.

I can relate.