For Mr. Merrill, who I met once at a Los Angeles performance of his play which may have been The Image Maker: A Play in One Act; this poem is a concrete poem in its proper form, a poem in the shape of a Christmas tree. Here is one place in which the poem may be found: http://onwardspoetry.blogspot.com/2009/02/christmas-tree-by-james-merrill.html.
from Christmas Tree / by James Merrill
The point from the start was to keep my spirits up.
I could assent to that. For honestly,
It did help to be wound in jewels, to send
Their colors flashing forth from vents in the deep
Fragrant sable that cloaked me head to foot.
Over me then they wove a spell of shining–
Purple and silver chains, eavesdripping tinsel,
Amulets, milagros: software of silver,
A heart, a little girl, a Model T,
Two staring eyes.