Perfect all the Same

Dusk overtook the evening sky

A field covered in frost, a barren pine,

Its color from past seasons, lost

Few needles left upon its sickly branches

Quietly, a child shuffled towards the shriveled trunk;

In his imagination carrying a garland, bright and shiny

He wrapped the wreath, imagining it

From lowest limb to highest peak

Across its outstretched boughs.

A new beauty dawned upon its barren surface

The ancient evergreen somehow revived,

Smelling of fresh sap, gleaming with icy brilliance

Snow returned, drifting down once more

The white flakes starting a vigorous dance

Shivering beneath the tree with pride

A toothy grin spreading wide

Moonlight striking it from up high

Stars twinkling from behind

Wind murmuring through the pine

Withered but perfect all the same

A present that none could take away...