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

Seasonal Gifts


With soft and tender hands, he gently wipes away the leaves of a helpless tree that has shed in the autumn weather, damaging the trunk and sap. His clothes smell of younger scents that I have smelled before, maybe in a fall’s past. But we have just met. He has come to me in the autumn where the leaves have remained with huge brown eyes. He cares.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

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.