The Christmas Tree, Dog and Skunk Tale

An oft told treasured tale of frivolity and foolishness!

A Stand in Dog, not Peppy.
Not Peppy, but still looking for mischief!

Behold the Juniper

December first we went to the farm

for our Christmas tree, our land, our farm

our tree, any one we want for free.

Prickly stickley juniper stuck in sandstone

grown up between the cracks for years, ages, eons.

There’s a chop, a crack, a saw

the sharp sent of juniper is ours

selfishly

we gather its life for home and hearth.

For our nest a bird’s nest

grey withered and abandoned then

sparkled, speckled, false feathered birds adorned

branches profuse and admired. Granted

a pleasure to remember.

Because once long ago we stood to behold the juniper

now it is held dear by the landscape of time.

Things simple and ordinary now treasures

piquant prickly dust out of sandstone

pink and tan from running under the sun

where I once stood by the pound

today grateful its light traveled so far in my mind.

A mundane thing

that day our dog, Peppy, chased a skunk

‘nuff said 80 miles from home a storm coming

tomato soup, bleach, Tide Soap

a toss in the pond crackling with ice no use.

I still had to ride in the back seat with a skunked dog

but there was a bird’s nest tree

on the roof of the ’56 Hudson Jet.

© 12-1-12 Carol Carlisle

7 thoughts

  5. I remember that. Your dad telling the story . . . was so funny to me at the time too. Don’t think it was to funny to your dad though. Your mother mentioned that a few times in later years too. Good (???) memories. lol

    Neal

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