There upon the ground
Lies a green sprig of fir
That keeps its colour still
And resembles its origin
Stood up, look close and see
There stands a little tree
With the pomp of arbory
And its rootless majesty
Pushed to the earth gently
And near pebbles like stones
A vivarium kept unrestricted
Reflections of wooded grandeur
All this in the recent loss of life
Its cycle pinned to the earth
Plucked from celestial blue
Cast down below, yet evergreen
So then to live on factitiously
In an artificial panorama petite
Until earthen tones take thee
And rusticate this green bit