Haiku this poem to Cuba

So, no one needs me

Christmas Tree Past, tinsel still flashing; 

But I sure am fun! 

A pine tree (not a pining one) advises—

Me, walking through the woods last night
heavy with tragedy
(me, not the woods)
came to a pine tree, heavy with snow.

It leant down, branch first, asked:
“What’s the matter?”

“It’s sad,” I said, “when a woman you love
falls in love—really loves—someone else.
Don’t you think?”

“No.”

“What!?” 

“You love her, yes?”

“Oh yes,” I said to the pine tree, wanting to climb it.
Or someone.

“Then you care about her, how her happiness goes.”

“But—”

“What?”

“But—”

“What?”

“Ok, I see that. You’re right. Wait a minute—
I think I’m having a realization.”

“Alright, stranger. I’ll stand here and be quiet. I won’t
needle you.”

“Wow! You are right! And I do love her, so ... ”

“Good. Now. It’s time you got out of these woods.
Do you see that merry red glow over on the horizon?”

I saw it.

“Time for you to get back to town.”