Burning the Christmas Greens
Their time past, pulled down
cracked and flung to the fire
—go up in a roar
All recognition lost, burnt clean
clean in the flame, the green
dispersed, a living red,
flame red, red as blood wakes
on the ash —
and ebbs to a steady burning
the rekindled bed become
a landscape of flame
At the winter’s midnight
we went to the trees, the coarse
holly, the balsam and
the hemlock for their green
At the thick of the dark
the moment of the cold’s
deepest plunge we brought branches
cut from the green trees
to fill our need, and over
doorways, about paper Christmas
bells covered with tinfoil
and fastened by red ribbons
we stuck the green prongs
in the windows hung
woven wreaths and above pictures
the living green. On the
mantle we built a green forest
and among those hemlock
sprays put a herd of small
white deer as if they
were walking there. All this!
and it seemed gentle and good
to us. Their time past,
relief! The room bare. We
stuffed the dead grate
with them upon the half burnt out
log’s smoldering eye, opening
red and closing under them
and we stood there looking down.
Green is a solace
a promise of peace, a fort
against the cold (though we
did not say so) a challenge
above the snow’s
hard shell. Green (we might
have said) that, where
small birds hide and dodge
and lift their plaintive
rallying cries, blocks for them
and knocks down
the unseeing bullets of
the storm. Green spruce boughs
pulled down by a weight of
snow — Transformed!
Violence leaped and appeared.
Recreant! roared to life
as the flame rose through and
our eyes recoiled from it.
In the jagged flames green
to red, instant and alive. Green!
those sure abutments . . . Gone!
lost to mind
and quick in the contracting
tunnel of the grate
appeared a world! Black
mountains, black and red — as
yet uncolored — and ash white,
an infant landscape of shimmering
ash and flame and we, in
that instant, lost,
breathless to be witnesses,
as if we stood
ourselves refreshed among
the shining fauna of that fire.
~~
William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)
from Collected Later Poems, 1944
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]
"Burning the Christmas Greens" read by David Kerr. Courtesy Close Reads Podcast Network.
William Carlos Williams of Red Wheelbarrow fame. Love this poem so well articulated only to be done this way by the individual poet. And love to see free verse in stanzas only because I am still a becoming poet and desire permission, although I have nearly and somewhat tossed out this notion. "... we brought branches / cut from the green trees..." Love to do this too, being careful not to ruin the trees countenance, begs the question, "Does a tree bleed?" Certainly, bleeds sap. Branches placed on the mantle, the Christmas tree scent of pine/hemlock, greenery festive. This is a Christmas crafty poem, inspires crafting. "... Green is a solace / a promise of peace..." we certainly need this not only at Christmas but year round. Dreaming, imagining while enjoying a roaring fire in the fire place, Christmasy! My new fav Christmas poem George thank you for sharing! Peace on earth good will to ALL men/women/children... a prayer! 💟💟💟💟💟💟
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