I know they're plants. Dead plants. I know they have no feelings. Yet part of me feels sorry for curbed Christmas trees. They just look so sad, lying tipped over like a fallen animal. I imagine the tree being confused, since for all these weeks he's been fussed over and now he's next to the hefty bags, awaiting the garbage truck. Perhaps thinking, What'd I do? or They don't love me anymore! I'm glad some things don't have feelings.