From One Book Lover

The Second Life of Christmas Trees In frozen January, my friends and I would drag discarded Christmas trees from the sidewalks of our shivering town to an empty lot. One match and fire raced down a dry sprig like a spurt of life. A puff of wind and the pile ignited, flamed above our heads. Silk waves. Spice of pitch and balsam in our nostrils. We stood in a ring around the body of the fire— drawn close as each boy dared, our faces stinging from the heat and cold, lash of that wild star burst on a winter night. by Mark Perlberg From The Impossible Toystore . © Louisiana State University Press , 2000. Courtesy of The Writer's Almanac