James Merril’s poem “Christmas Tree,” written while he was dying of AIDS. 1995.

December 24, 2025 - 13:43 UTC

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Thank you.
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Gosh, thats a bit of a heartbreaker, isn’t it?
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Thank you, this poem is exquisite
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Wow. Love formed in the shapes of memory and held there treasured. Thank you for sharing that.
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Thank you.
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My heart.
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Just wow:

It did help to be wound in jewels, to send/ Their colors flashing forth
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That section reminds me of my favorite verse from Keats' The Eve of St Agnes.
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The @jamesmerrillhouse.bsky.social runs an impressive and very diverse writer-in-residence program at Merrill's house in Stonington, CT. Well worth your support if you are moved by this poem.
www.jamesmerrillhouse.org
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Thanks for sharing Harriet! Wishing you a Happy New Year. All the best, Laura
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So beautiful!
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All I can say is WOW. And Thank you for this beautiful gift.
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Gorgeous. So moving. I know him from The Changing Light at Sandover, but had never seen this poem. Thank you for sharing it.
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I read this and let out the kind of sound one does when punched in the solar plexus.

Ohh.

Thank you for posting it and showing it to the world.
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I am forever in debt to (and jealous of) those who can express themselves in poetry. To say this in the face of death is inspiring.
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Love it.
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Thank you for posting the poem.
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Magnificent
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Beautiful
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Thanks for sharing Moira! Best, Laura
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Our lost generation. Imagine our world if they were still here.
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That's wonderful and so moving. I hadn't come across it before.
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"of course I knew - That it would be only a matter of weeks,
That there was nothing more to do. Warmly they took me in, made much of me,"
This speaks to me. I can vividly imagine the acceptance of a death that will come soon, alongside a symbol of another man who is also born to die.
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Thank you
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Beautiful and sad
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Breathtaking, thank you.
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My dear brother-in-law, who was year older than me, died of AIDS on Christmas Eve.
Saturday, December 24, 1988.
He was only 35 years old.
His oldest brother, my husband cried.
We all cried.

There was no more ridicule.
There was no more pain.

There was no more sweetness.
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I’m sorry for you and your husband’s loss. Hope you both had a peaceful Christmas.
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I say I don't like poetry and then I read something like this--

Thank you for exposing this Philistine to something so great.

Death be not proud.
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Could be worse. Imagine if the art you didn't like was architecture. Buildings all over the place!
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Oof. Beautiful. 😢
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has to be the greatest shape poem ever written
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oh my god
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My controversial take: that Merrill guy was good.
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He was a kind man.
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Beautiful.

(I'm not crying, you are! - me to those reading this after me.)
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Incredibly moving - thank you for posting.
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