Dire Creations

In spite of the crunch
a shower of needles
that used to be green
and fragrant
and new
now brown from above
forcing blinking closed eyes
and awkward hand movements.

We never shall invite Percy
for it is this time of year
that memories abound
and tongues wag
about how he lit a cigarette
and accidently inflamed the tree
before the garbage man
could squint while
hurling it
into the back.

Service done.