The Orphan

 


The Orphan

 

The tree lay

between the trash cans

of an apartment house

and a pile of sooty snow.

 

I saw it on my morning walk

the day after Christmas.

Green and full, looking fresh

as if just cut, without a wisp

of garland on it.

 

Its lovely corpse

held me.

Perhaps a chaotic household

left the tree on the floor,

stumbling over it until finally

here we are.

Or a troubled family purchased

it hoping it would salve their pain.

 

I wondered about the unknown

owner, so thoughtless, uncaring.

A tree, usually the holiday’s star,

instead thrown out, its life wasted.

 

Looking around to make sure

no one watched, I lifted it.

It wasn’t very tall.

I’d put the new tree in our bedroom,

even if only for a few days.

 

She’d give me trouble, when she saw it,

but if I moved the blue chair, it would fit.

 

Bruno Rescigna

 

Bruno Rescigna’s writing credits include: short stories published in Elysian Fields Quarterly and the Bucks County Writer, two one-act plays produced at the University of New Mexico. Bruno’s poetry has been published by Ariel Chart, Loch Raven Review, Literary Yard, and the annual issue of Tidepools. One of Bruno’s poems was selected for reading at the 2023 Summertide Festival, Port Angeles, Washington, and will be displayed for 12 months on the grounds of the Port Angeles Fine Arts Center. In addition, Bruno was a finalist in 2021’s Tucson Festival of Books, a national poetry competition. Lastly, Bruno was interviewed on the “Strength to Be Human” podcast hosted by Mark Rossi, Editor of Ariel Chart.  


1 Comments

  1. I absolutely love this! It is sad to see those Christmas trees lying discarded. We take ours to a place to be woodchopped, but they use the part for a positive goal, for a dog trail, or a place to spread. I think a tree would prefer being still able to give, instead of a useless rotting death.

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