I’ve never understood why all the “happy little trees”
are pine, as though only the tallest and leanest of a thing
can be “happy,” as if Bob is speaking a dark truth softly:
a happy tree must be a pine tree;
a happy tree must be a straight tree;
a happy tree must be an evergreen tree;
a happy tree must be easily wrested in a storm;
a happy tree must be consumable in building homes;
a happy tree must be like all of the happy trees before it;
And I want to rage at his soothing voice: not true, my voice
intends to speak into the void of time and space between us,
but held back by knowing its futility: he is deaf to me not
because of death, but because he lived, because he knew then
as I know now, that he is right: a happy tree is similar to the other
happy trees that came and are yet to come. The lonesome pine is not.

Mike Luketichand and Bob Ross both served in the Air Force. Until recently, they also had similar hair. @mikeluketich