PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

One December Day


 

A Christmas tree puzzle

sits in pieces on the dirty-white carpet floor.

A little girl in a decorated blue sweater is looking out

her rain-drenched window to see

her slowly flooding street.

 

She wanders back to her artwork and fits in new

pieces—  the puzzle starting to look more

like the golden-lit tree shown on the box.

She’s young enough to still have hope,

of a big man in a bright red suit.

 

When she’s older, fifteen years from now,

she’ll still remember this moment and how

her mother walked in and helped her finish

that Christmas tree puzzle. Fifteen years from now,

she’ll still remember the rain and stormy weather.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

gibby

I use poetry to vent about my life.

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.