Snowflakes Upon a Fir Tree

Photo by Chad Madden on Unsplash

Twelve past three I finished my tea
And left for the forest so I could see
A winter’s gift was just waiting for me.

I took my ax as I went to set free
A snowflake covered Christmas fir tree.
And as I swung at this mighty big tree
A vision in black pointed at me,
Saying son — you better go flee.

So I turned around ignoring his plea
Swinging the ax as he counted to three;
It ended, with the removal of my knee!

With one limb gone we both agree
I ignored the sign and refused to leave;
For it stated that nothing is free
Upon these grounds of the Cherokee.

Snowflakes Upon a Fir Tree by K. Saitta © 2020, A Walk In Verse

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