Fallen Warrior

Blue Spruce
Christopher Bogart

A fir tree fell in my yard the other day
A strong gust of wind in a nor’easter blew it over.
I only had three trees on the property,
A huge swamp maple in the back
A skinny little brother in the front,
One that has learned not to get his limbs
Entangled in the electrical wires,
And a tall, stately blue spruce
Whose fir and pine cones provided
Decoration for Christmases past.
It was not meant to last.
In the not so distant past
It had been leaning away from the yard
Like it wanted to escape
But, instead, decided to hit the deck,
Well, not actually the deck,
It was kind enough to lay
Down gently on the grass.
It did not disturb the fence,
The gardens, the deck
Or me
By its long, but anticipated, fall.
It went peacefully in its sleep,
Laying down
Without a sound.